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Subject: Story : Bandit (1/1 - TXT) - bandit.doc [01/01]
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++ Bandit ++
This work is copyright 1989 metlay, and is in the public domain for all forms
of reproduction and distribution SAVE those involving sale of this material.
All persons, places and events in this story series are fictional.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PROLOGUE: It has a mind of its own
Late winter 1982
The room was bathed in fanned rays of yellow light, the glare of the
streetlight outside the window only partially shuttered out by the Venetian
blinds. It wasn't a terribly cluttered or fancy room; bunk bed at one end,
desk at the other, two closets and chests of drawers, mirror, and bookshelves.
The walls were grey cinderblock, and the floor was institutional brown tile, a
choice of a practical rather than esthetic nature. But that wasn't to say that
the room had no character; far from it. It wasn't easy for a lowly teenager to
make a dent in the Establishment's effort to create anonymous conformity, but
it could be done. The center of the floor was covered by a huge Persian rug,
and the walls were adorned with Roger Dean landscapes: here an ethereal stone
staircase over a cloudy sky, there a desert island floating in the clouds, and
over there a huge mesa, a lake at its top, sheeting down water on all sides.
And there weren't many other rooms in the building that would have had
furniture like that next to the desk: a keyboard stand with a small
synthesizer, a pair of boxy guitar amps, a beautiful old Les Paul on a stand,
and a hideously-customized old Rickenbacker bass beside it, a sort of
"American Gothic" with guitars instead of the old farmer and his wife.
The bunk bed was occupied, top and bottom, and gentle breathing could
be heard from both of the beds. Up top, two bodies were intertwined under the
thick blanket, sleeping the sleep of the beloved. Down below, a single body
was stretched out and gently snoring, head thrown back on the thick pillow,
arms and legs akimbo. Suddenly, a tiny rustling motion came from beneath the
blanket on the lower bunk. A small, moving lump appeared under the blanket,
slowly and laboriously moving across to the edge of the bed. At the edge, it
hesitated, trembling, then cautiously nosed out from under the covers.
The Bandit's penis was going exploring.
It looked to the left and right, carefully sniffing the air for
anything out of the ordinary and listening for any strange sound that might
mean trouble. Satisfied at last, it gathered itself carefully, and jumped
lightly down onto the carpet, glans first. It was an undignified way to land,
that was for certain, but it knew from experience that it was a hell of a lot
nicer than landing on its balls. It scrambled upright and immediately scurried
to the protection of the bass on its stand, in case someone might see it. It
paused for a minute or two, waiting anxiously for that fatal gasp or scream in
the darkness. None came.
Relieved, the Bandit's penis began to explore its surroundings in
somewhat greater comfort. It paused to lovingly stroke the bottom of the bass
with its head, luxuriating in the feel of the cool, smooth lacquered wood
against its skin. God, it loved that instrument! It always wished that the
Bandit would play it naked one of these days, so it could feel the bass's body
resonating against it without the Bandit's thrice-damned pants in the way. The
insistent throb of the deep, powerful notes was so erotic, and there it was,
stuffed into a pair of BVDs while the Bandit got to have all the fun!
Sometimes life just wasn't fair.
The Les Paul was nearby, gleaming black in the night. The Bandit's
penis gazed up at it a bit fearfully, and wondered if Zero's penis felt the
same way about the guitar that it did about the bass. It would have to ask,
someday, but frankly it doubted if it had the courage to put forth the
question. The Bandit's penis was terrified of Zero's. So was every other penis
in the building. Or anywhere else on the campus, for that matter. The Bandit's
penis shivered at the thought of meeting it out here in the dark....
The penis looked up at the synthesizer, and wondered at the flat black
metal of its base. It was a strange one, that box. It shrieked, moaned, wailed
and thundered. A lot like Diva when she was coming, actually. The Bandit's
penis chuckled at that one; Diva made him laugh more often than not.
Diva. The Bandit's penis turned around and squinted up through the dim
light at the upper bunk. There, perilously near the edge, was a blanketed
back, wide and gently curved, and a generous pair of buttocks clearly outlined
beneath the fabric. Zero was a lucky guy, that was for sure. She was smart,
talented, friendly...well, to most people. The Bandit's penis shrank a bit as
she thought of the looks Diva gave the Bandit. Why doesn't she like him, it
wondered. He sure likes her well enough. Hmm, maybe that's the problem. Well,
it's not my place to advise him on such things. Onward!
The Bandit's penis sauntered under the music stand, and clambered into
the closet. There was the Bandit's old laundry bag, smelling of sweat, and
dirt, and.... Suddenly the penis stopped, stiffening, and sniffed deeply at
the bag. Good Lord above, it thought, there's a pair of panties in there! Now
who in the heck--
Oh. Right. Silly of me.
The Bandit's penis wilted completely and slumped into a dejected heap.
Oh, damn, it wailed, why'd I have to find those? She probably put them in
there to be cleaned, the last night they slept together, and he hasn't given
them back yet. Damn!
It thought miserably of the wonderful warm nights through the winter
that the Bandit had spent with Teenie, before she'd broken up with him and
left him alone and cold and miserable and horny and frustrated and.... it
could remember every inch of her, her long lustrous black hair with the
glorious red highlights that took her forever to comb, her wonderful firm lips
that the Bandit wasn't allowed to kiss too hard because she'd be too sore to
play the clarinet, her beautiful breasts with their rosy-pink nipples and
virtually nothing else to them, her slim, tight torso with the razor-sharp hip
bones, her-- The Bandit's penis sat up again. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing
that she left after all, it decided. The Bandit can do better. I hope.
It hopped down from the closet and waddled comically along the wall,
past the dressers and mirror and back toward the bed. Ah, it's wonderful to
get out and about in the cool and quiet of night! Pity the poor female, whose
privates never get out to see the world and get a bit of exercise. It did a
few somersaults, just for fun, and rolled over to the foot of the bed. The
first faint light of the rising sun was starting to tinge the stark yellow of
the lights outside, and it glanced at the luminous dial of the alarm clock
nearby to see what time it was.
It read 6:57.
The Bandit's penis was glad it didn't have any vocal cords, because it
would've screamed blue murder right then. Three minutes to seven? Dear GOD!
Frantically it waddled over to the end of the bed, cursing the pain in
its balls. A lot like walking on sore feet, it supposed. Really sore feet,
that is. The bedclothes were loose and dangling almost to the floor, as usual;
fortunately the Bandit was a pretty sloppy hand at making beds. It strained
upward, and just managed to hook itself in the little cusp of the partially-
tucked blanket. With a mighty heave, it levered itself up to the level of the
matress. For a split second, it lost its balance, and teetered on the edge of
the bed, visions of a long fall right onto its balls playing grotesquely in
its terrified imagination, but it recovered itself with a desperate lunge and
lay panting for a few moments. The lump under the covers quickly shuffled up
the length of the bed, between the sprawlingly spread legs, and stopped.
For perhaps a half minute, all was still.
Then the alarm clock began to blare heavy metal music at an ungodly
volume, silenced a moment later by a groggily-aimed fist smashing down on the
SNOOZE button. The Bandit remained frozen in midreach for a moment, body half
raised from the matress, then collapsed back into bed.
Above him, he heard a moan, a light kiss, indecipherable whispers.
Then a pair of shapely legs appeared over the edge of the bed, followed by a
meaty but well-rounded pair of buttocks, demurely clad in purple panties. With
a graceless thump, Diva dropped to the carpet and hastily began to dress. She
didn't turn around; the Bandit was watching her, and she knew he was watching
her, and what was worst, HE knew that she knew that he was watching her and
that wasn't stopping him.
Another pair of legs, much skinnier and covered with hair, appeared at
the foot of the bed, and ingerly turned around, hunting for footing. Zero
climbed down to floor level, muttering, "Morning, Bandit. Sleep well?"
"No," the Bandit responded. "Not at all." He scratched his groin and
swung his legs out from under the covers, smacking his lips distastefully at
the awful layer of perdition in his mouth. He blinked, trying to remember the
fragments of something very near, yet too nebulous to touch.
"I'm never going to sleep on a full stomach again," he vowed wearily.
"Pizza with mushrooms and onions gives you the WEIRDEST dreams!"
PART 1: some introductions
Late January 1982
"I don't want to start like that. And again...two, three, four...."
"Hold it, HOLD IT!" The Bandit held up a hand and waved frantically,
making disgusted faces. Zero raised an eyebrow at the spastic diplay, but
willingly shut off the tape recorder.
"Something the matter?"
"YES, God damn your oversized beak!" The Bandit glared furiously at
Zero, fists on hips.
Zero selfconsciously rubbed the bridge of his nose, which was quite
frankly a tremendously outsized appendage for the face upon which it rested, a
bit of Cherokee ancestry that wouldn't have been out of place on a nickel.
"What is it? And calm down, you look like you're about to explode."
"You promised me NO cliches and NO stuff stolen from other people!"
"Well, of course not," Zero replied, looking hurt. "But we haven't
even started playing yet...."
"You know damn well what I mean!" The Bandit rewound the tape, still
glaring at Zero. "That 'I don't wanna start like that' line is straight off of
a Robert Fripp song! Now, NO FRIPP!"
"It is? Oh, so it is." Zero scratched his head and smiled sheepishly.
"It's from the prologue of his first album, isn't it? The one that leads
into--"
"No, don't start! DON'T START! Or you'll set me off and we won't get
ANYTHING recorded!" The Bandit waved him to silence. Zero grinned at him, and
began to play a lightning series of guitar chords, his hands moving in an
inhuman blur. The Bandit was reaching to turn off the amp, when the door
opened and Diva stuck her head in.
"What on Earth are you two DOING?"
The Bandit stopped dead in his tracks, his scowl deepening. One thing
I don't need right now, he thought grimly, is the Diva on my case. As Zero
came to the turnaround, the Bandit kicked in the drumbox at an earshattering
volume, and spun around to face her with a wide grin as he joined Zero in the
song. To hell with composing, he thought gleefully. I'd rather torture Diva
any day!
"You burn me up, I'm a Cigarette,
Take hold of my hand and I begin to sweat
You make me nervous, oo woo, I'm nervous
This must be real bad karma for this to be my dharma
With you-woo-woo...."
Diva looked irritable, as she always did when the Bandit ever said
anything to her, and began to back out of the room. Suddenly another face
appeared behind hers, blocking the way as she tried to look into the room.
Twink, trying to be heard over the din, cried, "What's the name of--"
The Bandit's gorge catapulted into his throat at the sight of her, and
his grin turned demonic as he aimed the next verse down her throat like a
whaling gaff.
"You burn me up I'm a cigarette,
Life with you is a losing bet
You drive me crazy, eeyow, I'm going CRAZY!
Musical elation is my only consolation
From you-woo-woo!"
Twink bit her lip and backed off, reddening, and Diva hustled out of
the room behind her, the slamming door unnoticed in the chorus.
"Strategic interaction irreducible fraction
Terminal inaction from a bitter hostile faction
I'm getting anxious
I'm FRANXIOUS
Transactional diseases are the only thing that pleases We...."
It took another verse or two for the song to wind down, by which time
the pounding on the door was enough to wake the dead. The Bandit was laughing
like a lunatic, and Zero's normally placid smile was a good deal wider than it
should have been, as they set down their instruments and opened the door.
"Eeee, yessssss?" The Bandit asked, opening the door and batting his
eyelashes like Bugs Bunny in drag.
Conan gave the Bandit a big grin, and said, "Quiet or I'll kill you."
He flexed every muscle in his magnificent torso for emphasis. The Bandit,
who'd seen it all before, just yawned.
"Oh, hello, Conan," Zero volunteered. "Come to sit in?"
"I've come to squash you both like rotten grapes beneath my feet,"
Conan replied goodnaturedly. "Either you turn it down to a civilized level or
you get forcefed your guitars."
"Some people are so touchy," The Bandit lamented.
"It's our punishment for rooming with heathen," Zero agreed. "What do
they know about art, anyway?" He turned off the beatbox and the amp, sighing.
v Mollified, Conan turned on his heel and stalked back across the living
room to the other double bedroom in the quad. He gingerly stepped over Starch,
Lanky, Plaids, and Mimosa, who were sitting and listening raptly to the
Rainbow Wizard, who was holding forth from his beanbag chair with one arm
gently caressing the smooth curve of Mary Magdalene's hip. As he shut the
door, the Rainbow Wizard called after him, "Thanks for quieting them down,
Conan. We couldn't hear ourselves think."
"I didn't shut them up for your sake," Conan replied easily. "I need
to get some sleep before the graveyard shift." His door slammed.
"Most people CAN'T hear themselves think, Wiz," the Bandit said, his
appetite for music suddenly gone. "Just because *you* can, don't assume that
it's vital to everyone else. Besides, who wants to listen to grinding gears
anyway?"
"That's unnecessary!" Lanky said indignantly, sweeping a long trail of
black hair out of his eyes, his neckbell jingling as he moved.
"I just got finished *saying* that," the Bandit retorted. "Especially
when he can *smell* himself think at the same time! Peeyew! I nearly called
the Fire Department; it smelled like a short in the stereo!"
Zero made it a point never to get involved in the wrangling between
the Bandit and the Wiz, but he knew when points were scored. He let his smile
widen a bit, which was a real outpouring of emotion for him. Mary Magdalene
actually smiled, though, and *that* was a major tactical victory for the
Bandit.
The Bandit saw the smile, and nodded, hastily reaching for his coat.
"Let's call it quits for a bit, Zero; it's getting way too stupid for me in
here."
"Right behind you, kemosabe," Zero replied, fetching his coat and
scarf from the closet.
The Rainbow Wizard sighed loudly, half in anger at the Bandit's
attitude, half in relief in getting him out of his hair for a while, but Lanky
wasn't letting the Bandit get off that easily. "You ought to try listening
rather than poking fun once in a while, Bandit. You might learn something.
Wouldn't that be a shame?"
"Every Messiah needs his Antichrist, Lanky m'boy," the Bandit said
gaily, zipping up his jacket. "Otherwise, who'd the Faithful have to blame
for their troubles?" He turned and headed out the door, Zero behind him.
"Bandit?"
The low, throbbing voice grabbed him by the crotch and did its best to
spin him around and pull him back, penis first. The Bandit's back was turned
to the others, so nobody saw the flash of emotion in his face. Was it anger,
fear, or just lust?
He turned around casually, his face a neutral mask. "Yo?"
Mary Magdalene gave him her best smile, asking, "Don't you wear the
neckbell I gave you? Even Zero and Diva wear theirs...."
The Bandit looked sidelong at Zero, and gave him a poke in the chest.
No jingle, however muffled, answered the poke. "They do?"
Zero smiled at Mary Magdalene and said softly, "We keep ours at Diva's
place. No real use in wearing them around here."
"But a neckbell is meant to be worn, and to be used, when you feel
lonely or left out!" Mary Magdalene jingled hers lightly, and was instantly
rewarded with a kiss from the Rainbow Wizard.
"Not a problem," Zero said mildly.
"Don't feel badly, Mary-Mag," the Bandit said with a raffish grin. "I
wear mine all the time. See?" He reached under his coat and hauled out the
tiny brass neckbell on its braided chain. He shook it gently.
It didn't make a sound.
The Bandit grinned at her look of confusion, and said, "I pulled out
the clapper. 'Bye, now!" The door slammed on five shocked looks.
"Ain't I a stinker?" The Bandit grinned.
"The absolute pits, kemosabe," Zero agreed. "That was *really* low."
The pair bundled up as they walked down the hall to the stairwell, and
down the few steps to the side door. "It was worth it," the Bandit said,
straightening his beret. "The look on that pompous shit's face...."
"You really hurt Mary Magdalene's feelings, though," Zero reminded
him. "The Wiz wasn't the one who gave you that bell; *she* was."
"For her cold borscht my heart bleeds," the Bandit growled. "If the
world depended on my concern for her feelings, Ronnie would've dropped the
bomb on Andropov already."
"Oh, really," Zero said mildly. "And what happened to all that stuff
about 'God, she's beautiful' and 'I wish she'd at least pay attention to me'
and so on and so forth?"
"Past history," the Bandit replied with ice in his voice. "I met her
two years ago, before either you or the Wiz started here, and I will freely
admit that she knocked me flat on my ass. But she ended up getting into this
soulmate stuff with the Wiz before I had a chance with her, and for that I owe
him a big debt of gratitude."
"You? Owe the Wizard *anything*? Why, for Set's sake?"
"Because in rooming with the Wiz, which seemed like a damned good idea
at the time, please forgive me--"
"Long since forgiven. Say on."
"--I had a chance to see what's going on inside her head. Man, it is
*scary* in there!"
"There are crazier people in Arcadia, Bandit."
"I'm not so sure. That woman's in her own little fairy kingdom!"
The hard-packed snow crunched under their boots as they made their way
across the gleaming white expanses of the Eastern Quadrangle, past the Virgin
Vault, the Roach Motel, and the Lovepile. Up ahead, Scum Central was already
surrounded by a growing crowd of students, filing in for dinner.
"Don't worry your pointed little skull about it, Zero," the Bandit
said mildly, kicking the snow from his boots and shivering as he stepped
across the threshold. "I'm leaving well enough alo--HEY! TEENIE!"
The skinny young girl by the coat rack looked up like a frightened
deer, terror in her eyes. She took a half step back as the Bandit came over to
her, smiling.
"H--hi, Bandit." Her voice was a dry whisper.
"Hello, sweetheart. Just going in to dinner?"
"Just coming out." She grabbed her coat from the rack, and shouldered
into it hastily. "I have to get over to the rehearsal hall...."
"Hey, hold on a second!" The Bandit's forearm came up, barring her
escape. "You've been avoiding me every chance you've had for nearly a month
now. When you said you didn't want to see me any more, I let you go with no
questions asked, and frankly I have been *miserable* since then. I love you
and I miss you! Couldn't you at least give me an explanation?"
"Just leave me alone." Teenie pushed past him, not meeting his eyes.
He watched her hurry into the snow, his eyes tortured.
Zero, who'd been standing nearby, shook his head. "Bad karma, bro'."
"No shit," the Bandit muttered, his eyes still on the doorway. "What
the hell's got her so spooked?"
"No clue," Zero said mildly, doffing his coat.
"Multitudinous thanks for essentially nada," the Bandit snapped.
"Mellow out. You'll be so wound up we won't be able to play after
dinner. Just calm down and relax, okay?"
The Bandit glared at Zero for a moment, then sighed, his expression
softening. "Yeah, okay. You're right." He walked over to the entryway and ran
his data card through the debit machine, then took a place in the food line.
"It could be worse," he said philosophically. "I could have to eat with--"
"HEEYOW! ZERO THE GUITAR HERO AND THE DREADED BANDIT!"
The yell split the calm murmur in the cafeteria like a knife. Zero
winced, and the Bandit rolled his eyes, finishing his sentence.
"--Livewire."
A curly-headed spring of raw energy uncoiled itself in a long leap
over the decorative planters dividing the line from the eating area. One
trailing foot caught the edge of a planter, toppling it and scattering dirt
across a wide swath of carpet. Livewire didn't even look behind him as the
plant hit the floor with a rustling crash, his grin from ear to ear as he gave
first Zero, then the Bandit, a food-spilling whack on the back.
"Heyyy, how you guys doin, nice to see ya, listen, I got us a big
table over in the corner with lotsa seats, look for us over there it'll be a
kick, see you soon gotta get back my burger's getting cold, hurry it up!"
Another leap and he was gone. Zero shook his head in awe. "What a
marvelous human being," he said with a smile. "Utterly untroubled by anything
resembling common sense. It's a miracle he's survived to adolescence!"
"Be still my heart," the Bandit sighed. "More indigestion tonight."
"Hey! Bandit?"
The Bandit winced at the familiar voice, then plastered on a smile as
Twink came over, a glass of something in her hand. The Bandit glanced at it.
Milk. Just plain old white milk. Typical.
"Need a place to sit? I'd just love your company," Twink cooed, her
voice a poor imitation of Mary Magdalene's. "It'll give you a chance to make
up for how rude you were over at the dorm." She tossed her blonde hair out of
her eyes and gave him what she must have thought was a demure look, but came
off more like a cartoon caricature of a whore's leer.
The Bandit's speech centers suffered a severe lockup as eighteen
suitable rejoinders arrived at his larynx simultaneously and shorted each
other out, and he glared at her.
Then, suddenly, he smiled.
"You wouldn't happen to be sitting with Livewire, would you?"
She smiled brightly at his softened tone. "No! I'm all alone by
myself. But if you want, we could move over there! Livewire's there, with Diva
and Bone and Thunder and--"
"No, that's all right," the Bandit said hastily. "I'd *love* a nice,
quiet meal with you. You go on ahead, Zero; I'll see you after dinner."
Zero looked at him, then at Twink, then over at the waiting delights
of the corner table, where Bone and Thunder were joking with Livewire, and
Diva was casting him pleading looks. He shrugged. "Okay."
"Great! This way," Twink said, leading the Bandit to a small table for
two in the Annex, her hips weaving from side to side in a carefully practiced
imitation of Diva's sexy wiggle.
He found himself eyeing the shift and ripple of her buttocks as she
walked, and shook his head violently. If the Ultimate Ditz is giving you a
hard-on, kid, he told himself grimly, then you are in BAD shape.
PART 2: Various bedtimes
Early February 1982
The Bandit rubbed his eyes and put down the book, tucking his pen in
it for a bookmark. He sighed gustily and looked at the closed door to the
living room. Muffled sounds of conversation were coming from outside,
interspersed with shouts of raucous laughter: Conan, having some fun at the
expense of one of the Wiz's folks, no doubt. There was no sign of Zero; it was
becoming obvious that he'd be spending tonight in Diva's room. Bummer.
On impulse, the Bandit walked swiftly to his cassette rack and
withdrew an album that he almost never played any more. He popped it into the
deck, pulled on his headphones, and began to disrobe.
"Oh very young, what will you leave us this time?
You're only dancing on this Earth for a short while,
And though your dreams may toss and turn you now...."
"Come to bed, liebchen," Diva smiled, stretching out languidly on the
narrow mattress. Her body wasn't a pin-up artist's wet dream by any means: a
bit heavy in the hips and thighs, just a hint of a double chin. But her heavy
breasts and sinuous torso had an appeal all their own, as did the tawny patch
of hair just above her swollen labia.
She licked her lips. "I'm thirsty."
Zero smiled at her as he undid the buckle on his belt and dropped his
pants to the floor. His straining underwear was stretched even more out of
shape than usual, and he walked over to her and waved the huge bulge in front
of her as he unbuttoned his shirt. "I can go get you a glass of water from the
bathroom," he offered politely. "Or did you have something else in mind?"
"Hmmmm...." She rolled over onto her side, facing him and propping up
her head on one elbow. She licked her lips again, reaching out with her free
hand and giving the waistband of his underpants a tiny tug. The huge,
throbbing mass under the cloth shifted position and tried frantically to
escape, but didn't quite make it. She laughed lightly at the spectacle, and
ran a caressing hand over the scarcely-covered testicles, weighing them
gently. With another gentle tug, she finally pulled the waistband over the
tremendous obstruction keeping his underwear on, and the pants fell to the
ground.
Zero's penis was a terrifying club of throbbing meat dangling in her
face, as big around as a kolbassi and nearly ten inches long. It was the kind
of penis one tended to see in porn flicks, the sort of equipment that always
seemed to belong to the men submitting their life histories to the Penthouse
Forum. Most of the men who saw it coming out of the shower or in the locker
room turned pale and got very quiet, suddenly selfconscious. Even Conan, who
was put together like a stunt double for Arnold Schwarzenegger, said of it,
"All that meat on that skinny little guy.... it's just not fair! He probably
can't even manage a hard-on without passing out!"
That obviously wasn't the case, as Diva could readily attest. It was
true, the weight of the organ was such that it never stood up at more than a
horizontal position even when fully hard, but that didn't matter to her. All
that mattered was where it went, and what it did when it got there. She stuck
her tongue out as far as it would go, and licked the underside of the shaft,
from the base to the tip of the swollen purple glans, and smacked her lips
delightedly. "Finger me," she said, "Finger me while I suck you dry."
Zero slid a teasing hand down the length of her belly and over her
pubic mound, searching for her clitoris. It was already oozing and swollen as
he touched it; there was no question but that she'd been playing with it
already before he'd gotten in. She was in no mood to waste time that night, he
decided, and proceeded to slide two fingers into her slick crack as deeply as
they could go. Diva grunted loudly, gently caught the huge head of the bobbing
member between her parted lips, and teased the slit with the tip of her
tongue, tasting the sticky pre-come there. His fingers were finishing her work
of the past three hours, and she felt her orgasm surging up in her like a wave
of molten lead. She smiled around the huge knob between her lips, looked up at
Zero with wide blue eyes like a child asking for praise, and inhaled sharply.
It had taken months of practice with dildoes, but she'd learned to
relax her throat muscles and take his entire penis down her throat without
gagging, a trick none of his old girlfriends could ever have matched. It made
him her slave; he couldn't say no to her loving mouth, and the fact that the
act made him seem the dominant one only put a touch of kink in the total
control she exercised. But tonight she was too close to coming to bother with
teasing him. Her strong inhalation sucked the entire pulsing member into her
waiting mouth and down her throat, all the way down to the base. She heaved up
on the bed, hands on his buttocks, scrotum flapping rhythmically against her
dripping chin, and tried her best to swallow his penis whole. And when she
felt him hit bottom, she began to hum.
That was all it took. Zero groaned and his legs shook as he dumped a
huge load of semen directly into her stomach, and her humming turned into a
confused series of muffled screams and gagging noises as she came all over his
hand, the warm flow of liquid in her belly sending her over the edge. Zero,
unable to endure the excess of stimulation, pulled his shaft from her mouth,
and she coughed up a thin stream of semen after it, a grey line that trickled
down her chin and onto her breast. She grabbed the still-rigid rod and pulled
as hard as she could, milking more fluid from it as she pulled him down atop
her and tried to feed his length into her sopping vagina.
"Now that I've lost everything to you,
You say you want to start something new,
And it's breaking my heart, you're leaving,
And baby I'm grieving...."
Teenie stared at the ceiling in the darkness, arms at her sides, legs
tightly together. I wonder where he is tonight, she thought. Is he lonely?
Does he miss me? Or will he just haul out one of those disgusting magazines
from under the bed and pull on himself until he forgets about me? Probably.
That miserable son of a bitch. I did the right thing, leaving him.
She rolled over and looked out the window at the drifting snow. It had
been snowing heavily for nearly a week now, and there was more to come. She
shivered. It was cold, even under her blankets. She frowned; it hadn't always
been this cold at night. But of course not; she'd had him in bed with her
then, cradling her in his arms and saying how he'd loved her....
"Not tonight, Bandit. Please?"
"Sure, sweetheart. Not if you don't want to. Sleep well."
And that was all. No nasty hints, no pleas, no angry words or threats.
And later that night, when she was drifting in and out of sleep, she
remembered the sudden splash of something warm on her back, the gentle hand
that wiped away the stain, the kiss on her shoulder blade. He'd gotten what he
wanted anyway. He always did.
"I don't miss him." She said it out loud to the dark. "He used me as a
sex object. I don't need him. The Rainbow Wizard was right. He just uses
people, and throws them away. I'm better off alone now. I am...."
She rolled over again, and started suddenly to find a furtive hand
betwen her thighs. Angrily she moved her hand elsewhere, and firmly shut her
eyes. I'll say twenty Hail Marys tomorrow, she decided, and go to Confession.
"Oh, I can't keep it in,
I can't keep it in I gotta let it out,
I gotta show the world, world's gotta see,
See all the love, love that's in me...."
Livewire staggered through the snow, singing to off-key to himself.
His breath was thick with beer and vomit, and the front of his parka was
stained. He fell forward into the snow and lay there, panting.
I gotta get up. My face is cold, I got snow down my pants, man, that
really sucks serious dick. Shit. I'm tired. Maybe I should take a nap or some
shit, just rest a minute. I'll get up in a second. I'll count to three. I'll
count to ten. I'll count to three. One. two--
"Whugghh," he said, scrambling to hands and knees and heaving beer and
half-digested hamburgers into the snow. He wiped his mouth with one hand and
got to his feet, weaving. Up ahead, through the snow, he could barely make out
the front of the Eastern Habitat. He stumbled forward wearily, one hand
outstretched before him. There were the front doors, up ahead, and there were
the steps, and there-- he unconsciously counted up four floors and over two
windows-- was HER window. SHE was asleep, looked like. Or she was fucking some
football player or some shit up there. Yeah! Fucking some football player
while he was stuck out here in the cold! Mother FUCKER!
"MOTHER FUCKER! YOU BITCH! I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU DIEEEEEEEE---"
Livewire went face down into the snow again, retching. At long last,
the last of the beer gone, he crawled up the steps and onto the porch. He got
one hand onto the door handle, and pulled feebly. The door hadn't latched
properly when the last resident had come in, and so it opened with a click. He
pulled himself inside, smiled happily at the warmth of the air as the door
shut and locked behind him, and finally, mercifully, passed out.
"Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning,
Born of the one Light Eden saw play...."
The Rainbow Wizard held Mary Magdalene in his lap, gently bouncing her
up and down, up and down. Her smooth, wet pussy alternately clasped and
released his manhood, and he gently suckled on her breast as she threw her
head back and sighed in utter ecstasy.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Their whispers were a litany of love under the ceiling poster of
astrological signs that served as a canopy for Mary Magdalene's bed. Unicorns
adorned every wall, and posters of fantasy heroes with swords and bloodied
shields hung on the door and beneath the window. A quartz crystal dangled
before the single lit candle in the room, casting multiple sparks of rainbow
light over the two intertwined bodies.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Over and over again, the words were repeated, chewed into meaningless
mantric syllables as the surges of sexual release ebbed and flowed forward,
surged up and receded, never allowing release, again and again and again....
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Mary Magdalene felt the beginnings of his orgasm, the tightening in
his legs, the swelling in his loins, the thin sheen of sweat on his face. She
smiled at his expression, glad of his joy, and began to accelerate her
thrusts.
"I LOVE you!"
"I LOVE you!"
"I LOVE you!"
"I LOVE you!"
Suddenly he tensed, his legs splaying outward, and gasped as his seed
filled her to the brim and overflowed, sweet, sticky, glowing faintly in the
dim light. The hot fluid scalded her insides, bringing on a sudden orgasm for
her as well, swift, sharp as a dagger, and as suddenly gone.
"I--ugh--LOVE YOU!"
"UH! AH! I LOVE YOUUUUUUU....."
She fell forward across him, her carpet of black hair extinguishing
the candle, and kissed the long scar from his collarbone to his groin as he
fell into a deep sleep. Lovingly, with a worshiper's care, she lapped up the
softly glowing semen from his shrinking penis, licking it clean, then snuggled
up against him in the darkness. Her final whisper was a benediction.
"I love you...."
"Now that I've passed your test,
How could I lie to you baby, I'll never make you sad...."
Twink laughed merrily, clutching her sides and rolling on the floor at
Conan's latest joke. Of course, she hadn't "gotten" it, at least she she
didn't think she had, but she'd learned it was safer to pretend. When she
asked what things meant, people always groaned and looked funny at her, and
that was no fun at all.
Wiping her eyes, she got to her feet, and said, "Oh, Conan, that was a
scream! I love hearing your jokes."
"Great," Conan grinned, knowing damn well that she was trying to hide
the fact that she was totally clueless. God damn, what a total airhead! How
could anyone get as far as she did without learning *something* about what was
what, anyway?
"Is the Bandit coming back soon?" She phrased the question as casually
as she could.
"He's already asleep," Conan replied, inclining his head toward the
closed door to the room the Bandit shared with Zero.
"Oh!" Twink got up hastily, smoothing the skirt of her nightdress.
"Then I guess I should be going; I just wanted to talk to him, that's why I
came down here...."
"Well, there's me. Why don't you stick around for a while?" Conan
smiled winningly and stretched, flexing his muscles.
Twink looked into his eyes, her smile a frozen mask. She was
remembering the last time she'd stayed around with Conan to wait for the
Bandit: the dark, sweaty room, the awful, awful....THING stretching her poor
mouth out of shape, the taste of mucus and something else, his voice: "Don't
use your teeth, you stupid bitch! SUCK on it, don't try to chew it up!"
"Thanks," she said with feeling, "But I'd die first." She cast one
longing look at the shut door keeping her from the Bandit, and fled into the
hallway.
Conan watched her leave, sighing. Women, he thought to himself. What a
fucked-up species. He opened the door to his half of the quad, and noted that
neither the Rainbow Wizard nor Mary Magdalene was anywhere to be found. He
sighed again. Well, he thought, dropping his pants, at least I can beat off
without having to listen to them whisper sweet nothings to each other all
night. Now where'd I leave that copy of Hustler?
"Another Saturday night, and I ain't got nobody,
I got some money 'cause I just got paid,
How I wish I had someone to talk to,
I'm in an awful way."
The Bandit pulled off the headphones angrily and hurled them across
the room. "Fuck that shit," he muttered, rolling over and closing his eyes.
Across the room, the cassette deck finished playing the album in a
soft whir, and calmly shut itself off.
PART 3: Valentine's Day (just after midnight)
Mid-February 1982
The Bandit and Zero kicked the dirty grey snow off of their boots and
walked up the steps of the East Habitat. A quick ping of a security card in
the lock, and the door sighed open, brushing a warm breeze across their faces
from inside. They walked out of the dark and into the central lounge,
gratefully unzipping their coats. The usual late-night gang was there, Thud
holding court like a king in the chair by the coffee machine and dealing a
hand from his everpresent cribbage deck to Lanky and Plaids. Conan was
sprawled out on the couch, reading a paperback, and the notes of an acoustic
guitar wafted gently through the air as the Rainbow Wizard played a love song
for Mary Magdalene on a nearby stretch of carpet.
"Hi, Zero, Bandit," Thud said pleasantly. "Cribbage?"
"Nope," Zero smiled. "Against my faith."
"What faith?" Thud sneered at him. "You're an agnostic, a Crowleyite,
or worse yet, a Satanist."
"True." Zero collapsed on the couch with a sigh.
Thud gave up. "Bandit?"
"No thanks, Thudlike. I'm on a diet."
"Suit yourself. I'm just worried about how long I can hold onto these
two. They just have no stamina! I mean, we've only played--"
"Twenty-one games," Lanky groaned.
"Twenty-two," Plaids corrected him. He got up, stretching, and stalked
off toward his room. "I quit." Lanky took the opportunity to make his escape
as well, leaving Thud alone, the cribbage hand half dealt to no one.
"See what you did? Now what am I going to do?" Thud said angrily.
The Bandit smiled innocently. "Play Solotaire."
"You're the expert on games one plays alone," Thud replied
caustically.
"Ouch. I left myself wide open for that," The Bandit laughed. He
looked over at Conan, and asked, "Good book?"
Conan didn't look up. "Yup."
"What's it about?"
"I'm reading it for my Twentieth Century Literature class as an
elective," Conan said, eyes on the text. "I think the professor will get a
kick out of my report."
The Bandit leaned over and looked at the book cover. His wide mouth
split into a grin. "Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor?"
Conan didn't say a word; he only looked over at the Bandit and winked.
Meanwhile, Zero had wandered over to where the Rainbow Wizard was
finishing another song for Mary Magdalene. After the song had ended and Mary
Magdalene was thanking the Rainbow Wizard with a kiss, he cleared his throat
politely. "Uh, c'n I borrow that for a moment, Wiz?"
"Mmmmmm," the Wizard said, pulling off the guitar awkwardly so as not
to break the kiss. He set the guitar down beside him, and threw both arms
around Mary Magdalene, bearing her down to the carpet on her back.
"Thanks," Zero said.
"Mmmmmm," the Rainbow Wizard said.
"Mmmmmm," Mary Magdalene agreed. "Mmmm. Mmmmmm, mm mmmm!"
"Mmmmmmmmmm," the Rainbow Wizard managed with a muffled laugh. "Mmmm
mm mmm mmmmmm mm mmmmm mmmmmm, mm mmmmmmm...."
The conversation continued in that vein, broken by giggles on
occasion. Mary Magdalene rolled the Rainbow Wizard over onto his back, and
began to slowly rub herself up and down against his thigh. The others in the
lounge watched in fascination as her movements grew more and more obvious in
their intent.
Thud gaped. "Public fornication! That's DISGUSTING!"
Conan laughed quietly to himself. "Mary Magdalene in heat again? Now
THAT'S disgusting!"
The Bandit looked over at the two lovers cavorting at Zero's feet
while he nonchalantly tuned the guitar, and found his mouth going dry. Oh,
man, he thought. That lucky bastard. If only it could have been me....
He forced boredom into his voice. "Here we go again."
"No, dear boy," Thud corrected him with a sepulchural grin, "There
THEY go again. You, alas, have no place in the matter."
"Thanks for nothing." The Bandit looked away with an effort, picked up
the cards, and dealt himself a hand of Solotaire.
"Remember that playing with oneself is a sin, dear boy," Thud smiled.
"I just wish you'd make up your mind, Thud," the Bandit muttered.
"Either join the Priesthood, or decide you're gay. But don't sit on the
fence, you're driving us all crazy!"
"I promise I'll make up my mind before I leave school," Thud said
with a placid, pious smile. He turned to watch Zero play, and the Bandit
risked looking in the direction of the two thrashing bodies on the floor to
better hear the music.
Zero was shy by nature, and rarely played in public, but his little
concerts drew more than their share of gossip. Every rock band on the campus
wanted him as a lead guitarist, for his blinding speed and perfect
articulation had become legendary. "If Mr. Spock played guitar," the Bandit
was fond of saying, "He'd sound like Zero." Doing his best to ignore the moans
of Mary Magdalene, who was obviously doing HER best to come as quietly as
possible on the Rainbow Wizard's thigh, Zero torched his way through seven
songs in seven minutes, including two famous pop tunes, a Villa-Lobos guitar
concerto excerpt, two songs by the Bandit, one of his own tunes, and just to
finish things with a flourish, a raunched-up version of one of the Wiz's love
ballads. Thud and the Bandit applauded as he bowed and took off the guitar,
and Conan tore himself away from the Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor long enough
to make clapping motions with the paperback and his free hand. Zero, grinning
with pride, looked down at the people on the floor beside him.
His smile died. The Rainbow Wizard was cradling Mary Magdalene in his
arms, whispering in her ear as she sighed in the glow of post-orgasmic peace
and snuggled against his shoulder. They hadn't even looked at him.
Zero looked outraged for the barest fraction of a second. Then he saw
the Bandit's wide grin out of the corner of his eye, and smiled sheepishly,
putting down the guitar next to Mary Magdalene.
"That was wonderful!"
He looked up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, low and alluring.
Every other man in the room turned around as well; there was something in that
voice that demanded attention.
She was standing behind Zero, carrying a battered old guitar case in
one hand and brushing her hair back from her eyes with the other. She was
small, perhaps five feet two, with the lithe curves of a gymnast ill-disguised
by the flimsy blouse she wore. The Bandit's gaze flicked over her in a
practiced instant: tight, well-worn jeans with a patch over the crotch, strong
legs, light from the window behind her outlining her torso through the shirt,
and the particular jiggle and barely noticable tenting of the fabric that
bespoke small, slightly pointed breasts and no bra to hide the nipples. Her
eyes were blue and wide like a child's, and her freckled face was scrubbed
clean of makeup. She tucked a wayward strand of wavy brown hair behind one
ear, and continued, "I wish I could play like that...."
Zero looked into her eyes, and came to an instant decision. "A lot of
people do," he said pleasantly, and turned away from her, walking out of the
lounge. She watched him go, her eyes puzzled.
"Oh, don't mind him," the Bandit said hurriedly, getting up from the
couch and striding over to her. "He just gets nervous when people compliment
him, that's all. Say, I haven't seen you around here before. Did you just move
in?"
She smiled at him, revealing tiny dimples. "Yes. I just transferred
here from Crystal City. This is my first semester. I'm called Flower."
"I'll just bet you are," the Bandit grinned. "And I am the one and
only Bandit. At your service, madam!" He took her proffered hand and kissed
it.
She withdrew the hand gently, smiling. "Pleased," she said.
The Bandit's grin grew even wider, if that were possible. He waved to
the assemblage in the lounge. "My merry men," he said. "Thud, Conan on the
couch there with the Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor, and, uh, oh, yes! These two
shameless exhibitionists at your feet are our very own Do-it-Yourself Messiah,
the Rainbow Wizard, and HIS very own Mary Magdalene."
"Messiah?" She looked over as the Rainbow Wizard got to his feet,
drawing up Mary Magdalene beside him with one strong arm around her waist.
She smiled up at him. "I've never met a real Messiah before. Do you work
miracles?"
"When I'm not being trodden down by the unfaithful," the Rainbow
Wizard smiled, "I can do almost anything. Welcome to the East Habitat." He
bowed to her. She dimpled prettily and gave him a mock curtsy, and the
Bandit suddenly felt like the fifth wheel on a Continental: not good for much,
and hanging on for the ride. It's that goddamned Wizard thing again, he
thought disgustedly. Why the hell does HE have to attract the pretty ones
all the damn time?
Flower turned to Mary Magdalene, and said, "it must be terribly
exciting, having your own Messiah. How did you manage to do it?"
Mary Magdalene smiled, but there was something in that smile that
wasn't the orgasm. "I was," she said archly, "In the right place at the right
time."
There was silence for a few moments as several different thoughts went
through several different heads.
MY tits never look that good without a bra on, Mary Magdalene thought
worriedly, and how the hell does she keep her hips so slim? It's a good thing
I know the Wizard, or I'd be really worried....
This, thought the Rainbow Wizard, is a woman to get to know better.
Nice hair, thought Flower. Seriously good smile, too. But she's too
heavy and she doesn't take care of herself. And not only does she know it, but
he knows it, too! Oh, mama, Crystal City was NOTHING compared to what I'm
gonna do to Arcadia!
Wow, man, serious tit action here, Conan thought. Wonder if the Wiz'll
let me tear off a piece once he adds her to his little harem?
Thud was watching Mary Magdalene's eyes. This is going to be very
ugly, he thought to himself. I wonder how stable MaryMag is these days? If she
gets too iffy, then POW! Catfight! Break out the body oil and the video
camera!
The Bandit, forgotten in an instant, decided that sterner measures
were necessary. "Uh, listen," he said, "We'll be getting together tomorrow to
do some playing. Zero and I, I mean. Would you like to join us?"
Flower had obviously come to the conclusion that the Rainbow Wizard
was more worth knowing than Zero. "Maybe later," she said, scarcely looking at
the Bandit. "I want to play some guitar duets right now." She looked over at
the Rainbow Wizard and smiled. "If you don't mind, that is."
"Not at all," he said. "Will you teach me some new songs?"
"If you'll teach me a couple," she replied guilelessly.
"Great! We can take turns playing," Mary Magdalene said brightly. "I
love playing duets." She smiled pleasantly at Flower, her eyes hard as flint.
Flower gave her the sort of smile one gives an adorable young child who's just
brought home a live snake as a pet.
"We'll make it a trio, then," the Rainbow Wizard said, fishing in his
pocket for his room key. "Why don't you go get my other guitar from my room,
dear?"
"Okay!" Mary Magdalene's desire to please the Wizard overruled her her
suspicions, and she skipped off toward their room. The Bandit watched her go,
thinking, too trusting to live. Jesus!
"Well, I guess I'll be leaving," the Bandit said uncomfortably. "You
should stop by our place when you get a chance...."
"Oh, I'd love to," Flower said hastily, remembering her manners. "I'd
love to hear what you and, er, Zero do."
The Bandit managed a weak grin. "Well, we--"
"YO! BANDIT! HEY, WIZ my MAIN MAN! Whuss happening, people?"
The Bandit winced. Please, he thought, O merciful God, not now, not
while there's some faint shred of hope....
Livewire threw a corded arm about the Bandit's shoulders and squeezed
hard enough to dislocate his collarbone. "Howya DOIN' my MAN!" He caught sight
of Flower for the first time, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"Well, hell-LO there, pretty lady," he said in his best Rhett Butler
imitation, which was terrible, "I don't believe we've been introduced...."
"Flower, this is Livewire. Livewire, this is Flower. She's a
transfer," the Bandit said in a rush. "Now as I was saying--"
Flower gave Livewire the barest nod, and said to the Rainbow Wizard,
"You have a lot of interesting followers."
Any thoughts that the Bandit had in Flower's direction were chopped
brutally short. His eyes burned as he whirled to face her. "You watch your
mouth, missy," he gritted. "Livewire's my drummer, and neither he nor Zero
buys into this crock of shit that old Glow-in-the-Dark here shovels out for
the faithful. And what goes for them goes double, triple, for me. Understand?"
Flower took a half step back from him, her eyes widening fearfully.
"Don't you talk to me that way," she said feebly. "I can make mistakes, can't
I? I thought he was your friend...." She looked from the Rainbow Wizard, who
was regarding the Bandit sourly, back to the Bandit again.
"He is my friend." The Bandit's voice was soft. "I just wish he'd see
a shrink before he gets somebody hurt." He turned on his heel and left,
tossing angrily over his shoulder, "Particularly himself!"
"Oo, bad scene," Livewire said, watching him go. Then he shrugged and
said to Flower, "But he's right, you know. This guy is like a TOTAL fuckhead.
Thinks he can create trees!" Laughing uproariously, he did a back handspring
away from them, bounded to his feet and charged off with a wave. "Later!"
The Rainbow Wizard smiled and shook his head with the weariness of a
patient parent. He said, "It isn't easy, being me."
"Awwwww...." Flower smiled at him, her eyes at once teasing and
promising.
"Awwwww...." mimicked Conan, his eyes still on the book.
Mary Magdalene was walking down the narrow hallway, the guitar case
bumping against her legs, when the Bandit came striding toward her like a
juggernaut. He brushed past her roughly, bumping the case from her hand with a
jerk.
"Hey!" Mary Magdalene's voice carried a lot more ire than people were
used to hearing from her. "Why don't you watch where you're going?"
"I could say the same for you, sweetheart," the Bandit snarled, not
even turning around. "Better get out there in a hurry, or you're going to be
out of a job." He slammed the door of his room behind him. Mary Magdalene
looked at the shut door, then back down the hall toward the lounge. Her eyes
narrowed into cruel slits, and her jaw set into a grim line. She marched down
the hallway toward the lounge, rolling up her sleeves as she went.
The Bandit pulled open the refrigerator, pulled out a beer, opened it
with his teeth, and downed a third of it in one swig. He sat down wearily on
the couch and sighed, running a thumb over his aching teeth. Why do I keep
doing that, he wondered wearily. One of these days I'll break a tooth.
It's just not goddamned fair! He reads a book on the theory of miracle
working, convinces himself and everyone else within earshot that he's got
something special, and all of a sudden he's up to his eyeballs in devoted
female followers! It's enough to make you sick.... I should have been a Psych
major. Then I could get into people's heads and make them do whatever I wanted
them to, just like him! Bells! Love songs! Give me a break, for shit's sake!
There was a soft knock on the door.
The Bandit took another long pull on the beer, finishing the bottle.
I'm not going to answer it, he decided. I'm going to sit here very quietly and
wait for whoever it is to go the fuck away. Then I'm going to crawl into bed
and try to sleep while the Wiz is probably conniving BOTH of them into bed
with him across the room. What the hell's so special about cum that glows in
the dark, anyway? Hell, if I'd been irradiated as badly as he was, MY cum
would probably glow, too!
The knock was louder the second time.
Go away, the Bandit willed. Go away and leave me alone. I don't want
to be comforted, I don't want pity and understanding. I just want to be left
alone. Please!
"Bandit? Please open the door...."
The Bandit's eyes went as wide as Frisbees, then contracted shut in
pain. No, anyone but her, he begged. Please?
There was a long silence.
Finally, with a ragged sigh, the Bandit got up and walked across the
living room, setting the bottle down with a clank. He pulled the door open,
and snapped, "What?"
Twink was obviously a bit taken aback by his tone, but she smiled
tremulously and managed to struggle onward. "Can I come in?"
"If you must," sighed the Bandit. He motioned for her to enter, and
she glided past him and sat down demurely on the beanbag chair, her legs
curled under her. He resisted the impulse to get another beer, shut the door,
and returned to his chair. "So what do you want?"
She smiled, the faintest hint of a kiss-me pout on her lips. "I ran
into Livewire," she said. "He told me you'd had a run-in with the Wiz over
this new transfer kid."
The Bandit sighed again. "I'm just a little bit tired of seeing him do
the old hoodoo and having women drop their drawers for him," he muttered.
Twink frowned slightly. "Drawers? What kind of drawers?"
The Bandit slapped his forehead. "DRAWERS, Twink! Panties! Underwear,
y'know?"
"Oh," Twink said, blushing. "No, I've never heard that word for them
before. Drawers? What a funny word for underwear! I wonder where it came from?
Shut up, Twink." The last three words were spoken in the same conversational
tone as the rest of her speech, and the Bandit almost missed them.
He raised an eyebrow. "'Shut up, Twink'?"
"I've started ending all of my sentences with it," she said proudly.
"It saves time."
Somewhere in the Bandit's gut, a small cold something tied itself in a
knot. "Aw, Twink, that's a terrible thing to say!"
"Well, it's the truth," she replied, shrugging. "People have been
telling me to shut up ever since I got here. I can't ask what the words mean
in the movies--"
"Well, you've gotta admit not knowing the jargon in a movie that's
rated 'R' is a little bit flaky for a modern teenager," the Bandit said drily.
"I wasn't raised with it," she said wistfully. "My mummy and daddy
never used curse words around the house, and neither did anyone else in the
school."
"I guess you didn't miss much," he smiled. The knot in his stomach
was slowly unwinding, and he took a moment to appraise the figure Twink cut
critically. She was wearing that awful shapeless nightgown again, the
polyester one that zipped up to her chin with the little lace collar, and
furry bunny slippers in matching powder blue. Bunny slippers, he thought to
himself. I mean, really!
For a brief moment, he found himself wondering what she would look
like in real clothes, as opposed to the Godawful things her parents sent with
her from wherever the hell in North Dakota she'd come from. All he knew was
that she was no lightweight, and he wondered just how much fat she was hiding
under those shapeless sweaters she wore. For a brief instant, he had a brief
mental vision of Diva, her heavy breasts and wide hips as appealing as a
Rubens in their way. The Bandit had always gone for short, willowy girls, but
maybe there was something to Zero's taste for ladies closer to Diva's
size.... He shook his head slightly. Get real, Bandit. You're never going to
get closer than ten feet away from Diva, and Twink ain't no Diva!
"Penny for your thoughts," Twink asked, twirling the tip of her
nightgown's collar drawstring between her chubby fingers. The Bandit's gorge
rose into his throat at her pitiful attempt at flirtatiousness, and he
suddenly was feeling about as amorous as a retread on the Interstate.
"I was thinking," he drawled, "About what an incredible pain in the
ass some women can be...."
"Oh, you mean Flower? Yes, she's a live one, I'll say," Twink smiled.
For the briefest instant, the Bandit could've sworn that she'd actually dodged
an insult and delivered a comeback. Then he realized, as she continued
talking, that she'd just missed the reference completely. Merciful God, he
thought, how did a woman like this ever get into college?
"I've been talking with her, she lives in my hall. She's kind of
weird, always wearing old tiedyes and beads and and talking about how her
parents used to walk around naked so she wouldn't have any hangups and stuff
like that. After I saw Livewire, I decided to breeze through the lounge and
see what was going on. I thought it was really pretty funny, well, actually
kind of sad, to tell the truth, I mean there's the Rainbow Wizard playing
away, and there's Flower matching him note for note, and poor Mary Magdalene
struggling along on the chords just to keep up! Everyone tells me that the two
of them have been together just forever and they always will be, but it
doesn't seem to me that that's a terribly healthy way to go, you know? Shut
up, Twink."
"Oh, stop that," The Bandit scowled. He'd heard about enough for one
night. Somebody was leaving. Soon!
"Why?" Twink smiled at him again, standing up and stretching. "Do you
have something better for me to do?"
Oh, Lord God, the Bandit thought. That's the last straw!
He was on his feet in an instant, pulling open the door to the room
he shared with Zero. It was empty; Zero had already gone to Diva's for the
night. He strode inside, growling, "Leave, Twink. Just...leave. Shut the door
on your way out."
He reached behind him to shut the door but Twink was there, pulling it
shut behind her. "Are you sure you want me to leave, so soon?" Her voice was
low and liquid, teasing.
The Bandit wasn't having any of it, tonight, though. A woman like
Flower ending up on the Wiz's hit list, and Twink, for God's sake, TWINK as a
consolation prize? No, Goddammit, NO!
He whirled on her and hissed, "I have had enough of your stupid
insinuations and your ridiculaous attempts at flirting! You're making a
complete and utter fool of yourself, and you're not impressing anyone! You
love the attention I give you and you have absolutely no intention of
following through on ANY of your little hints, so why don't you just put up or
shut up!"
Twink stared at him, her eyes wide and bright. He returned her stare,
his eyes burning black in the dimlight through the Venetian blinds.
Then, quite suddenly, she smiled.
"All right," she whispered.
And in a single smooth motion, she unzipped her nightgown from her
collar to her waist and let it fall to the floor.
The Bandit, master of the quick comeback, the left-handed compliment,
and the subtle jab, the most dangerous verbal assassin in Arcadia, dimly heard
his higher reasoning faculties shut down. His blood roared in his ears and he
barely registered the fact that she was stepping forward and putting her soft
arms about his neck. Instinctively his hands came up and grasped her waist,
and her soft lips met his as the last remnants of his reasoning abilities
surrendered with a fading crackle of static. Her lips were gentle, soft, and
caressing, and she broke the kiss after a moment and held him tightly,
whispering in his ear, "You're trembling. What's the matter?"
"Oh, God, Twink," he managed to get out somehow. "You mustn't. I treat
you like dirt! Worse than dirt! You deserve better than me, for God's sake,
find yourself someone who'll give you a fair shake, don't do this--"
She placed a cool fingertip on his lips. "Shut up, Bandit," she said
in a tone of mock sternness. She giggled at the turnabout, and he found
himself laughing with her. Suddenly, with a roar of released emotion, he threw
his arms around her waist and hugged her as hard as he could. She squealed as
he lifted her up off the ground, thought better of it, and quickly set her
down again. She met his gaze, her eyes mischevious, and suddenly lowered her
arms to encircle his waist. His breath whooshed out of him as she returned
the lift, laughing. She set him down on his feet again, giggling, "You
shouldn't hurt yourself. I'm a pretty big girl!"
"No kidding," he whispered reverently, stepping back a pace to admire
her. In all of my life, he thought, I have never dreamed that someone like
this could exist outside of Playboy. I was right, Twink's no Diva. Poor Zero,
stuck with Diva....
She wasn't a classic beauty by any means, but her body was the stuff
of Bandit's dreams. She was ever so slightly overweight, just enough to give a
softness to her joints and her lines, smoothing away the angles of bone
beneath the skin. Her oval face and long, aristocratic neck swept
uninterrupted into gently sloping shoulders, strong arms, and the most
beautiful breasts the Bandit had ever seen. He'd only really slept with a
couple of women in his life, and all of them had been, by choice or chance,
short and slender, with tiny A-cup breasts that suited their small frames. In
that instant, at his first sight of a woman with an average-sized bustline,
the Bandit became a lifelong and firmly committed breast man.
"You're beautiful," he moaned, fingering her swelling nipples in
disbelief. Twink's breasts weren't unduly large, but her nipples were
something to see. As she sighed at his touch, they grew and swelled to the
size of pencil erasers. He let his hands slide down her wide, flaring
ribcage, and across her her washboard-flat stomach, pausing for a moment with
his thumb in her navel and one questing finger curling about a tendril of
downy, honey-blonde hair. "You're also a natural blonde," he noted with a
grin, his sense of humor slowly returning.
"Of course," Twink giggled. She reached up and began to undo the
buttons of his shirt, whispering, "I want to see you naked, Bandit...."
Suddenly he gripped her hands with his, looking hard into her eyes.
"Twink," he said, "You don't have to do this. I don't know why you picked me,
but I'm giving you the chance to back out now, before we go any further."
She smiled up at him, her eyes bright with tears and her smile almost
aglow. "I picked you," she whispered, "Because I love you. I forgive you the
way you've treated me in the past, because I know you were all broken up over
Teenie and how she dumped you. I want you, and I'd like for you to learn to
love me, but all I really want to ask for are two things. Will you promise
them to me?"
He frowned. "I will, if I honestly can."
"Okay. First, will you be a litle nicer to me from now on?" Her gaze
was wistful, and so full of pain that that the Bandit had to swallow to keep
from crying.
He shook his head. "I can't promise you that, not until I get to know
you better. You and I need to talk, really talk, to one another, and right now
I'm in no condition to make conversation. But I will promise to give you the
common courtesy I've maybe been denying you, and to help you learn to defend
yourself a little better when people start picking on you...."
"I'll settle for that, for a start," Twink whispered, a tear rolling
down one cheek.
"Hey, hey, don't cry. I want to see you laugh!" He smiled
encouragingly at her, then on a sudden impulse tried tickling her ribs. She
pulled away with a sharp laugh, and wiped her eyes. He found himself staring
at her again, entranced by the way her breasts swung as she moved.
She smiled and slipped her arms around his neck, and whispered into
his lips, "My second request is as follows. If I were to tell you that I want
to stay a virgin, would you be upset?"
"Not at all," the Bandit said instantly. "It's your body, you have the
right to control what happens to it." And to his surprise, he realized that he
meant it. Mom, you raised me right, he thought to himself, but the fact that
there's so much else of her to enjoy is gonna make keeping this promise a lot
easier!
"Thanks," she breathed, starting to unbutton his shirt again. "Now,
where were we?" She peeled the shirt back from his chest, and leaned forward
to kiss his nipples as she pulled the sleeves off of his arms. She dropped to
her knees before him on Zero's Persian rug, and giggled as she hastily undid
his belt and the snap of his jeans. Slowly, tantalizingly, she lowered his
zipper and pulled his pants down to his knees. His underwear, bulging and
already stained, were next, and she laughed as his penis sprang free and
gently swatted her on the cheek, leaving a sticky stain. She reached up and
grasped it with both hands, stroking it gently. She looked up at him, and said,
"You'll have to excuse me if I'm a little awkward at this, I've only done it
once before." She frowned at the memory. The Bandit caught the frown.
"Really," he said, "With who? Anyone I know?"
She released his penis. "Conan," she whispered.
The Bandit stared aghast at her. "CO--WHY, for God's sake?"
Her eyes filled with tears. "It seemed like the only way I could get
close to you was to get in with one of your friends...."
"Oh, Twink...." The Bandit's erection wilted. He dropped to his knees
and held her tightly as she began to cry.
"He, he stuck it in my mouth and started pushing it in and, and out,"
Twink sobbed, "And I, I wanted to run away but I was afraid he'd stop me and
maybe if I made him feel good he wouldn't, wouldn't...." She broke down.
The Bandit rocked her in his arms, tears in his eyes. "That son of a
bitch," he whispered. "That dirty son of a bitch, I'll kill him!"
"NO!" She looked up at him and grasped the sides of his face with both
hands. "I don't ever want you to mention any of this to anyone. He's never
tried anything since, and I just want to put it behind me. I don't want to
forget that it happened. But I do want to forget enough of the hurt so I won't
go through the rest of my life afraid...." She sniffled a bit.
"Twinkles, how the hell'd I ever underestimate you? You're braver and
more mature than anyone I know!" A tear rolled down the Bandit's face.
"Oh, I love you...." She hugged him hard. After a long moment, they
heaved a simultaneous sigh, and helped each other up. Twink giggled as the
Bandit waddled comically over to the bed and sat down, his pants still around
his ankles. "Gotta get these shoes off before I kill myself," he laughed.
He quickly undid the laces and divested himself of shoes, socks, and
pants, as Twink came over and sat down on the bed beside him. She started at
the scratchiness of the blanket on her bare bottom. "Hey, this is wool! No
wonder you're never cold at night," she marveled, running a hand over the
expanse of blanket. "It's beautiful."
"You're beautiful, too," he whispered, running a hand down the
exquisite curve of her spine and watching her arch her back in pleasure like a
cat. "And tonight, you won't be cold."
Twink looked up at him, her expression suddenly pensive. "It's funny,"
she said softly. "I've never spent the night with anyone before."
"That's okay," he smiled, running a hand through her long golden hair.
"You can get used to it really easily." He drew back the covers, saying, "Hey,
I just had a thought. Let's just sleep together tonight, nothing else. It'll
give us a chance to get to know one another better, with no pressure."
"Are you sure?" Twink looked askance at his penis, which was already
erect again. "I don't want to leave you like that. Won't you burst?"
"Wha-at? No, of course not! You really do have a lot to learn, don't
you?" The Bandit grinned at her crestfallen expression. "Come into bed."
She smiled uncertainly, and slid under the covers beside him. The
Bandit sighed as Twink spread her warm body out over his like a blanket and
cuddled against him with a happy smile. She's kinda heavy, he noted, but as
long as she doesn't stop my breathing I guess I don't mind....
One of her hands, wandering down his belly, found and gently held his
penis. "Good night, my love," she whispered.
"Good night, Twink," he replied, kissing her hair.
PART 4: Valentine's Day, continued
Mid-February 1982
The Rainbow Wizard carefully packed away his guitar in its case, and
closed the lid. He hefted the case easily in one hand, and smiled sweetly at
Flower. "I had a wonderful time this evening," he said, "And I hope that we
can do it again sometime soon."
"Oh, I'd like that," Flower replied, picking up her own guitar. "It
was wonderful meeting you. I was beginning to feel like I wasn't going to make
any friends here at all. Well, goodnight!" With a wave, she turned and was
gone, guitar case banging against her knees as she strode toward the elevator.
The Rainbow Wizard watched her leave, his smile contemplative in a
manner only practiced by those in the Messiah business. After a long moment,
he sighed gustily and turned to Mary Magdalene, who'd packed her guitar away
and was standing with her arms crossed, looking at him with an expression that
would curdle fresh milk.
He smiled at her disarmingly. "What's wrong, my love?"
Mary Magdalene didn't even wind up. One strong fist came up in a blur
and caught the Rainbow Wizard right in the gut. He stumbled backward one or
two steps with a grunt of pain, stumbled over a coffee table, and fell
backward onto it, then onto the couch behind it, with a clatter.
Thud, who was idly playing a round of cribbage with himself in the
corner, raised an eyebrow at that. Definitely unstable, he thought wearily. He
should've seen it coming.
"I hope you're satisfied," Mary Magdalene hissed. "You fucking lecher!
I'd rip your nuts off and feed them to the fish, if they'd eat them!"
"What's the--oof--matter with you, Mary? What'd I do?" The Rainbow
Wizard scrambled to his feet clumsily. He ran after Mary Magdalene as she
grabbed her coat and stormed out the front doors of the Habitat, fuming.
"Hey, Wiz! What about your guitars?" Thud called.
"Please keep them in your room, Thud. I'll retrieve them later. This
is much more important," the Rainbow Wizard called over his shoulder. He was
out the door in an instant, gone in a blast of cold air.
Thud watched them go, and sighed. He began to gather up his cards.
Time to call it a night, I guess, he thought. No more fun stuff to watch.
Mary Magdalene was walking at full steam, her back stiff and her eyes
straight forward as she crossed the campus, heading for the northern edge of
Arcadia's campus. Behind her, the Rainbow Wizard stumbled through the snow,
calling, "MARY MAGDALENE, WAIT! PLEASE! TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG!"
At those words, Mary Magdalene stopped dead in her tracks and slowly
turned to face the Rainbow Wizard as he caught up with her, panting. The sound
of a party in another of the dorms carried faintly over the snowy field as he
stopped just out of her reach, shivering in the wind.
"Tell you what's wrong?" Her whisper was thick with disbelief. "Tell
you WHAT'S WRONG? YOU STEAMING SHIT! HOW DARE YOU?" The whisper turned into a
shriek in the space of a half sentence. "Do you think I'm blind? Or just
stupid! I SAW you tonight, the whole fucking NIGHT, drooling all over that
little cunt like a goddamned sled dog in heat! You motherfucking HYPOCRITE!"
"Mary--"
"SHUT UP!" Her eyes were wild in the dim moonlight, and spittle flew
from her lower lip. She paused for a sobbing breath, and continued in a choked
monotone. "Three years I sat with you, you son of a bitch. Three YEARS! Every
other girl in the goddamned high school was out having a normal life, going on
dates, having REAL boyfriends, and I just sat in a chair by a hospital bed
waiting for you to open your eyes and tell me you loved me one last time
before you DIED!" She gasped for breath. "I watched them open you up and haul
out your insides! I watched them fill you with chemicals and shoot you full of
radiation and I watched your h-h-hair fall out and I listened to them t-tell
m-me that y-y-you were g-g-gonna DIE...." She fell to her knees and buried her
face in her hands, crying hysterically.
The Rainbow Wizard reached out and gently laid a hand on her shoulder.
She shrugged away from it roughly, not looking up. "No, don't pull away," he
said calmly. "Are you trying to tell me that'd you'd rather I'd died?"
"No," she sighed into her hands, her sobs subsiding a bit.
"It sounds that way to me," he continued. "It sounds like you're
blaming me for wasting an awful lot of your life that you could have spent
elsewhere, doing other things. If I'd died...."
"Oh, shut up," Mary Magdalene whispered.
"No, I won't. This is important to you, or you wouldn't have hurt me
that way." His tone never wavered, a perfect psychiatrist's drone, comforting
and insistent. "Where would you be if I were dead? Would you be happier?"
"N-no." Mary Magdalene slowly got to her feet. Her knees were soaked
through and freezing, and she shivered under her coat.
"We both know what you did for fun before you and I got together," the
Rainbow Wizard said sternly. "I don't consider hanging out at the Palladium
and trying to get into the music business from the mattress up to be a
terribly rewarding future, do you?"
"That's not FAIR!" Mary Magdalene sniffled. "I was making FRIENDS in
the business! I had CONTACTS! I...I...." Her head came up proudly. "I gave
some of those visiting musicians the best times they'd ever HAD!"
"And are you a better person for it?"
She glared at him, her eyes dark pits of rage.
"Why were you so angry at me tonight?"
"You know damn well why I was angry at you! Why I'm STILL angry at
you! Where the hell do you get off doing the romantic warrior routine with
that sawed-off little twat? She's NOTHING! Just a stuck-up brat from Crystal
City who seems to think she can just waltz in and waltz out with MY MAN!"
"Your man?" His soft voice carried the faintest hint of danger.
"You're--damn--RIGHT!" She jerked a thumb up, pointing at herself.
"Stand there and tell yourself you'd be alive to CHASE that little shit if I
hadn't brought you through this! I wouldn't make fun of you when your hair
grew back a different color, I held your hand while you puked up the whole
damn medicine chest, I changed your bedpans--hell, I even changed your I.V. a
couple of times when the nurses were too busy!" Her tone gradually took on a
note of triumph. "You owe me your life, you stinking cur! If it hadn't been
for me, you would've just given up and DIED! This life you're living is yours
because I gave it to you and YOU OWE ME! And I will NOT have you sniffing
around at the crotches of every female that passes by! Is that clear?"
The Rainbow Wizard regarded her cautiously. "Very clear," he said. "I
hadn't realized that you were so unsure of my love for you that you could
misconstrue what happened tonight. That's such a shame...."
"Oh, come OFF it! You're not going to tell me that there was nothing
going on between you-- she would've stuck her face in your crotch if I hadn't
been there, and you know it!"
"Yes, maybe she would have," the Rainbow Wizard nodded. "And you're
quite convinced that I would have thrown away everything we've built and
gleefully let her carry me away?"
Mary Magdalene was silent, her gaze wavering the tiniest bit.
"Are you so convinced that she's your superior that I couldn't
possibly resist her," he persisted. "Are you so sure that I wouldn't have just
told her, 'No, my heart belongs to another. You are lovely, but you are not
for me,' and made her leave it at that?" He shook his head. "That's the most
depressing news I've heard in a long time." He turned and began to walk back
to the Habitat. "I wonder if the Bandit's still awake? He'd get a real charge
out of hearing this...."
Mary Magdalene called after him, "Wait!" Her voice was still full of
tears, but now they were tears of misery rather than anger.
"No, I'm cold. I don't have a jacket," he said, still walking away.
Mary Magdalene ran the few steps that brought her to his side, and
opened her coat, casting it over his shoulders and drawing him inside it with
her. "Don't go," she whispered. "I'm sorry I misjudged you. It just seemed--"
"I know what it must have seemed like," he said softly, turning to
face her. He slipped his arms around her, and she drew her hands into the coat
sleeves and held it shut behind his back, a warm cocoon enveloping them. "But
if I'm to be denied even the chance to admire a beautiful girl without seeming
a traitor, wouldn't it be better for me just to be struck blind?"
"Oh, don't say things like that," she whispered, and kissed him.
"I love you. Never forget that. I love you."
"I love you...."
They stood huddled together under her coat, kissing tenderly, for what
seemed like hours. Strange sounds seemed to come from somewhere inside the
coat's folds: first the clink of a belt buckle, then the distinct zip of a
zipper being opened. Mary Magdalene gasped, then laughed deep in her throat
and kissed the Wizard even harder. Another zipping noise.
"Ooohh," Mary Magdalene husked. "What are you going to do with THAT?"
"Nothing, if it freezes off," the Rainbow Wizard smiled.
She laughed and reached up to nibble his ear. "I have a place to keep
it warm," she whispered. "Hurry."
The next few moments must have been as funny as hell to watch, as the
coat bounced and flapped a bit around the two bodies jockeying for position.
The edge of the coat whipped open for an instant in the wind, exposing a brief
glimpse of what lay in the shadows: a silky thigh, the black curl of pubic
hair, and something that seemed almost to glow....
Then the pair turned to let the wind blow the coat shut again, and
Mary Magdalene gasped and threw her head back. "UH! YEAH, YEAH!"
Mmmmmmm...." The Rainbow Wizard bent forward and licked her neck as
she drew herself back like a bow in his arms and began to gasp and moan in a
familiar rhythm. Suddenly she went rigid, keening like a wolf as her orgasm
swept over her, heat and bitter cold mingled in the night. She cried out in
ecstasy as he gave a loud grunt and shuddered in her embrace, his eyes shut
and his head lowered with the effort.
For a long while they stood very still, just holding each other. Then,
they straightened up, kissing gently, and the odd buckling and zipping noises
came back. A police car went by on the narrow street, its siren blaring,
causing them to start like frightened deer and cling to one another. Then they
laughed with the release of tension, and turned to leave the field.
"Would you like to go back for your coat?"
"No, I'll hold you close until we get to your house."
Conan crunched through the snow toward the brightly lit courtyard that
fronted the Student Union, rubbing his tired eyes. I should know better than
to read stuff like that before going to bed alone, he said disgustedly to
himself. Now I'm gonna have to drink myself into a coma to be able to sleep!
Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor, who'd I think I was kidding?
Students were going in and out of the Union, enjoying the late night
hours of the bar and dance club as a release from studying. Conan caught a
sudden whiff of grilling hamburgers, and his stomach responded with a burbling
growl. Maybe I'll eat first, he decided ruefully. You can never metabolize
enough protein....
"Let go of me, you pig! LET GO! HEELLLLLPPPP!"
Conan's head jerked up at the sound of the terrified scream.
"Shut up, you bitch!" The roar of a drunken voice was followed by a
slap and a cry of pain. Conan located the source of the sound; it was a
shadowed area under one of the walkways, famous for private trysts at night.
He kicked into a dead run and was there in bare seconds, his massive legs
covering the distance in the time it took the students nearby in the courtyard
to look around for the source of the scream.
An attractive young woman was struggling on the concrete bench with a
young man who was trying to hold her wrists. Conan grabbed him by the scruff
of the neck and bodily hauled him off of her, then up off the bench.
"Hey, what's the--" The boy's voice cut off abruptly as Conan turned
him around and he got a good look at his assailant. He swallowed, then tried
for a shaky smile.
"Leave her alone," Conan said with a friendly grin.
"Uh, look, man, me and my girlfriend were just--UNGH!" With a sudden
shove, Conan slammed him back bodily against the wall of the underpass.
knocking his breath away.
"Leave, I said," Conan repeated pleasantly. The boy gained his feet,
gasped for breath, and took off like a spooked raccoon, pushing aside the few
curious students who were just arriving on the scene.
Conan didn't even watch him leave. He turned his attention to the
girl, who was sitting on the bench, hugging herself and shivering.
"Are you all right? Did he hurt you?" Conan held out a hand to her.
Hesitantly, she took it, and he led her out into the streetlights. There was a
spattering of applause from the few people who'd remained to see what the
ruckus was about.
"Yeah! Conan saves another damsel in distress!"
"Way to go, Conan!"
Conan grinned at the crowd, eating up the applause. His smile died on
his face when he saw the girl clearly in the light. Her eye was rapidly
swelling and turning black as he watched, and she was obviously in a lot of
pain.
"Thank you," she said in a feeble whisper.
"Let me walk you to the hospital," he replied. "You should get a cold
compress for that eye."
"Okay," she nodded. It took an obvious effort, but she smiled.
He offered an arm to her, and said to the crowd, "I'm taking her to
Wright Memorial Trauma Ward. If the Security Squad want a statement, they can
find us there, okay?" There were a few scattered nods of assent.
"Come on." He smiled at her as she took his arm, and led her around
the Union, toward the highway and the hospital.
The noise and lights in the Clean Room were at their height. Zero
cavorted on the dance floor, his body shaking to the beat as he watched Diva
cut loose. She was squeezed into a spandex leotard in a tiger-stripe pattern
and a pair of skintight black pants, and her eyes were shut as she swayed in
time to the music. Zero's eyes were fastened on her crotch, and on a small
wedge-shaped bulge that went utterly unnoticed by everyone else in the room,
as did the tiny remote control clutched in his fist and the thin wire that ran
from his hand into the waist of her tights. He gave the power button a gentle
stroke, and watched Diva contort and thrash in what must have seemed a
particularly enthusiastic dance move.
"Oh Lord God Jesus Christ Almighty!" She threw herself at him, biting
his neck and grinding her pelvis against his. He could feel the faint thrum of
the clit-vibe against his penis as she frantically grabbed for the remote.
"Gimme that thing you sonofabitch don't keep turning it onnanoff yer killing
me my clit's gonna bust wide open you sonofAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" She hugged him hard
as he gave the power button another jab, and he deftly held it out of her
reach. One or two other people were noticing that Diva appeared a bit too
enthusiastic about the song, and were looking their way with a mixture of
confusion and amusement.
"Time to go, liebchen," Zero said quietly, flicking the remote off and
leading Diva off the dance floor and through the crowd. She followed along
behind him, still trying to pry the remote from his hands.
A crowd was just dispersing out in the hallway of the Union where the
entrances to the Burger Bar and the Clean Room met; from the broken glassware
and the small spot of blood on the carpet, it looked as if the campus police
had had a rough time with someone in the Bar. But Diva was too far gone to
notice, and Zero was having too much fun torturing her to give the situation
more than a passing glance. He whispered, "Ready to go home?"
"NO NO God no," Diva moaned, arms about his neck and teeth nibbling at
his Adam's apple, "I'll never make it home you gotta do me here you gotta do
me here gimme that thing you sonofabitch I'm dying!" She made one last attempt
to get the remote from him, then gave up and began to rub her hands up and
down the length of his penis, outlined against the crotch of his jeans. Zero
blinked in surprise and did his best to start a nonchalant stroll down the
hall away from the clubs, but Diva kept right beside him, groaning in his ear
and trying to get a hand into his pants. "Gimme Jimi...gimme Jimi...."
Zero nodded politely to an elderly female professor who was walking
by, her flabbergasted eyes on Diva's busy hands. "Sorry about this," he said
pleasantly, "She's had a bit too much to drink."
"So I see," said the professor, hurrying by with a sniff.
"You bastard you bastard you BAAAAAAAA!" Diva shrieked and laughed
like a madwoman, both feet leaving the ground for a moment as Zero nudged the
button again. "I'm gonna getcha! I'm gonna--GETCHA!" She suddenly pushed Zero
as hard as she could. Taken by surprise, he stumbled sideways into an open
doorway that led into a small ticket office for the Student Theatre. It was
empty, the cash register unlocked and open; the teller was obviously out for a
moment to deposit the night's gate in the safe upstairs. Diva slammed Zero up
against the cash register and fell to her knees, frantically tearing at his
belt buckle. In desperation, Zero kicked the door shut behind her and held it
with one outstretched foot. His flailing hand reached over and pulled down the
curtain on the teller window. The last thing he saw was the face of a young
blonde freshman, her eyes bugging out and her mouth agape as she caught a
brief glimpse of Jimi as the curtain went down, and Diva went down right along
with it.
She wasn't in the mood to mess around. One deep breath, a whispered
screech of "Gimme!" and down she went, all the way to the base of his thick,
slick shaft, sucking for all she was worth and screaming around the hardness
filling her mouth and throat. Zero closed his eyes as she bobbed up and down,
up and down.
"C'mon, glbph, you bas, gmmmph, bastard, glmmph, give it, blf, give it
to me, mmmmbl, give it to me, gmllMMMMMM!" Her body went rigid as Zero turned
the vibrator on full power, and she did something neither he nor she was
expecting: she bit down. Hard.
"YYYYEEEEEEOOOOOOWWWWWWWTTCHH!" Off went the vibrator, and down into
his chair went Zero, the last vestiges of his selfpreservation instinct
keeping the door firmly shut against the rattling doorknob and clicking key in
the lock.
"Is somebody in there? Hello?"
Diva's mouth came off his dick and her eyes were wide and full of
fear. "Oh, Liebchen, did I hurt you? I'm so sorrEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" He flicked on
the vibrator again and she convulsed against him. Zero quickly examined the
damage to Jimi; he was bruised a bit and kind of red at the base, but there
was no blood, and he was thicker and harder than ever. He let out a windy sigh
of relief.
"Peel," he whispered.
Diva looked up at him and smiled wickedly. One hard tug, and her
tights were around her knees, exposing her wide, full hips unadorned except
for the red nylon straps that held the buzzing vibrator over her clitoris.
She turned around and presented her wide, smooth rump to him as he stood up.
The door seemed almost about to open with his foot removed from it, but it
slammed shut again as Diva fell against it with her full weight.
"Who's IN there? Open the damn door!"
Zero spread her ass cheeks and exposed the luscious, drippy folds of
her vulva with one hand, slowly increasing power to the vibrator with the
other. He planted the tip of his dong against her pussy lips, and she mewled
and thrust back against him, sucking him halfway in with a wet slurp. He
slammed his hips forward against her, driving himself into her to the hilt as
he ran the vibrator all the way up the scale.
The remote dropped to the floor, forgotten, as he grabbed her waist
and started slamming into her with everything he had. Diva was screaming,
bucking, going insane from the dual stimulation, and her body slammed against
the door to the ticket office again and again. Finally, he gushed into her
with a groan, and she let out one last long wail as the vibrator, its job
valiantly done, drained its batteries and quietly died.
For a long minute, they just stood there, him leaning back against the
cold metal of the cash register, her bent jacknifed at the waist and sobbing
for breath. He gently withdrew from her, quickly grabbing a spare piece of
paper to wipe himself and her off before pulling up his pants. She smiled
weakly at him, leaning against the pounding door as she rolled up her tights.
He tucked the remote in his pocket, put his arm around her to hide the wire
while she quickly straightened his hair and her own, and opened the door.
"Eeeyesss?" Zero smiled pleasantly at the young lady who was standing
at the door, in front of a small crowd of fascinated onlookers.
"What the hell were you DOING in there?" The crowd burst out laughing
at the question, and the girl blushed crimson. Zero suddenly noticed the girl
who'd seen him through the window, standing with two of her friends at the
back of the crowd and making it-was-THIS-big-I-SWEAR motions with her hands as
her friends gaped at her. She looked up, saw him, and blushed even redder than
the ticket seller. He grinned and held up his hands, shaking his head as if to
say, No-it's-really-only-THIS-big-dear.
"Never you mind," Diva laughed, licking Zero's earlobe as she guided
him toward the coat room. "We were just leaving, anyway."
"Well, Jesus, would you look at that? Not even an apology, when I'm
stuck out here trying to lock up and get my--" Behind them, they could hear
the girl's voice cut off short, and the crinkling noises of wet paper. "MY
RECEIPTS! OH, GROSS!"
Zero's eyes met Diva's, and they both burst out laughing. All thoughts
of further adventure forgotten, they ran hand in hand for the exit.
"You waited? Oh, you didn't have to do that!" Conan looked up from his
magazine and smiled as Cricket came out of the Trauma Ward, a compress held up
to her eye. He stood up and shrugged on his coat, and helped her ease into
hers.
"That's okay," he said. "I had to talk to the police when they came
by, and I didn't want you walking home alone." He opened the door for her into
the night, and they hustled out into the cold wind, heading for the North
Habitat.
"I appreciate your helping me," Cricket said after a few moments of
silence. "I really thought he was gonna kill me."
"What were you doing with a creep like that anyway, Cricket? You seem
like too smart a person to go getting mixed up with someone who'd jump you
like that...."
"Huh! So speaks the walking beefcake magazine!" Cricket's voice held a
trace of a sneer. "What the fuck do you know about getting trapped into doing
shit you don't want to do, big man? Huh?"
For a brief, horribly clear instant, Conan thought of Twink. "Too damn
much," he whispered. "Sorry. Shouldn't have said it."
"Damn right," Cricket continued angrily. "I've seen you working out in
the gym, all pumped up and nowhere to go. All the girls looking at you and
talking about you...."
"No shit, really?" Conan grinned widely. Now THAT was an interesting
revelation!
"Yeah, really! And d'you know what they're saying?" Cricket paused for
emphasis. "They're LAUGHING at you, you stupid motherfucker!"
"What!" He looked down at her in shock. "WHY?"
"Because you're so fucking narcissistic it's enough to make them puke,
that's why! It's so obvious, watching you pose in the mirror. The love affair
between Conan and Conan will go down in history!" She shook her head and fell
silent. Conan looked supremely uncomfortable in the silence that followed.
"I wish they could've seen you tonight, though," Cricket whispered.
"Oh, shit, that wasn't anything," Conan said with a shrug. "He
couldn't have hurt me if he'd tried."
"Yes he could've," Cricket said tartly. "It doesn't take a big man to
carry a gun of a knife, Conan. You could've been killed! You didn't know what
you were charging into-- you just did what you thought was right, without
hesitation. He would've broken my nose if you'd hesitated before coming in
after him. Or worse." She smiled up at him. "You know what your problem is?"
"Yeah," Conan muttered. "I'm a narcissistic scumbag."
"No, besides that," Cricket chided with a smile.
Conan stopped and looked at her for a moment, unsmiling. "No, I don't
know what my problem is," he said. "Why don't you tell me?"
Cricket reached up and gently touched Conan on the tip of the nose.
"Your problem," she said softly, "Is that you don't really know where your
strengths and weaknesses are. You're not impressing anyone when you squat a
quarter ton or whatever, but you can bet that you'll get a lot more respect
from the women in the aerobics class when they hear how you saved my ass
tonight! You're no mean, macho hunk. You're just a decent human being."
"Oh, really," he said with a wry look.
"Yeah, really," she replied, starting to walk again. The doors to the
North Habitat loomed out of the darkness before them, and Cricket fumbled in
her pocket for her security card with one hand while trying to hold her
compress in place with the other. "Oh, damn it!"
"Here, lemme help you," Conan said quickly, gently placing a hand over
hers on the compress. She looked up at him with her good eye for a long moment
before drawing her hand out from under his and fumbling for her card. She got
it out, and got the door open by feel as he held the compress steady.
"Thanks." She pocketed her card and put her warm little hand over his,
taking the compress from him. She smiled up at him in the doorway. "For
everything."
"No problem," Conan grinned. He shivered in the wind, and said, "Well,
I guess I better be getting back. It was nice meeting you, Cricket."
"Wanna come in and warm up for a while?"
He looked at her long and hard, then shook his head. "I better not."
"Oh, stop looking like a kicked dog and get in here, you moron!"
Cricket grabbed him with her free hand and dragged him inside. The door shut
with a clang behind him, and the night was still once more.
The Bandit awoke with a start, half sitting up in the darkness. His
eyes were utterly unaccustomed to the gloom, but he could feel rather than see
the warm presence in his bed. There was a quiet whisper in the dark.
"Oh, I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to wake you...."
"That's okay, that's okay." The Bandit settled back down onto the bed
and ran his hands down the amazing curve of Twink's broad back. She hummed in
delight and burrowed closer to him, warm in the cold night.
"This is really wonderful," she breathed. "It's so cozy."
"Yeah," the Bandit said. "Cozy." He suddenly realized what had
awakened him: her hand on his penis, warm and soft, gently stroking him closer
and closer to orgasm. He was almost ready to pop. "Y'know, if you keep playing
with me like you are, I'm gonna come all over you," he whispered.
"Oh, really?" Her giggle was low and almost liquid in the night. "Is
that so bad? I like to make you feel good...." Her inexpert hand stroked him
more roughly and insistently now, and she crawled up until her lips were level
with his, kissing him as she squeezed his penis and pumped it in her fist.
"You like?" Her mock Spanish accent was somehow fairly effective, he
noted in a haze of mixed sleepiness and horniness.
"Si, I like," he replied, and she giggled again. "But there are other
things I like, too, and if you're not going to let me sleep we may as well
enjoy them...."
"Oh! Well, what did you have in mind?"
He grinned in the darkness. "Ever been eaten out before?"
"Uh, I don't think so," she said uncertainly. "What is it, exactly?"
"What, being eaten out?" The Bandit paused, at a loss. "It's when I,
well, uh....Tell you what. Let go of me and I'll demonstrate, okay?"
"Okay." Her fist released his penis, and he immediately rolled her
over onto her back and began kissing his way down her body, pausing for a few
luxuriant sucks at her huge nipples before making his way down lower. "Ohhhh,"
she moaned as he squeezed her breasts, "That feels so GOOD!"
"If you like that," the Bandit said, "You'll love what comes next!"
His tongue flicked out and began to touch and probe beneath her pubic hair,
and she gasped in surprise.
"Ooh! Careful, that tickles! Bandit, you can't really want to lick
down THERE, I mean isn't it sort of--" Her breath caught in her throat. She
took a deep breath and tried again. "It's not too--" Her voice died again.
When she finally spoke, it was in a different tone altogether.
"Oh, please don't stop...."
"Mmmmmmm," the Bandit replied, his tongue teasing her rapidly-swelling
clitoris gently. There was no question but that she was primed and ready for
his attentions; her pussy lips, neat and symmetric, were oozing moisture, and
her clit was stiff and turgid. He licked and sucked on it, and drove his
tongue between her outer lips to caress the entrance to her cunt. Back and
forth, back and forth between them, listening all the while to her nonstop
commentary.
"Oh! Oh! That feels heavenly! Don't stop, PLEASE don't stop! It feels
like I'm burning up, I'm hot and cold, I'm shaking all over, Oh gentle Jesus,
OH! OH! What is that you're licking? More! More, oh, yes, oh, God, I--Bandit!
BANDIT! I FEEL FUNNY! I FEEL, I FEEL LIKE I'M GONNA--EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"
Her body arched off the bed from heels to head and he rode her like a
cowboy rides a bucking bronco, his tongue never leaving her sopping vulva. She
moaned, shrieked, and gasped, her clutching hands buried in his mop of long
dark hair, holding him in place as she spent and spent.
Finally, he let go of her, and she collapsed sobbing onto the bed, her
body soaked in a thick film of sweat. "Oh, God, oh, God, I love you, oh,
Bandit, that was so, so BEAUTIFUL!" He crawled back up to join her and hugged
her hard, and she buried her face in his hair and cried.
"Sweetheart, don't cry, it's okay. Shhhh, don't cry," the Bandit
soothed her, stroking her long hair. "Please don't cry...."
"Can't, hic, I cuh-cuh-can't HELP it," Twink sobbed gustily. "It was
so, suh-suh-so BEAUTIFUL, I cuh-c-c-can't help crying, uh, oh, I LOVE you!"
She cried even harder, and the Bandit didn't know what else to do but to hold
her close and rock her gently until her sobs gradually died away and she
relaxed against him, kissing his neck. "Oh thank you, thank you...."
"Uh, you're welcome," the Bandit said uncomfortably. "Are you sure
you're all right? I mean, I've never had anyone start crying on me before."
"Oh, I'm feeling wonderful," Twink sighed, grabbing a fistful of
toilet paper from the roll the Bandit kept by the bed and blowing her nose
with a honk. "I couldn't help it, it felt so good I just had to cry. Was, was
that an orgasm?"
"Uh, I think so," the Bandit said soothingly, smiling despite himself.
"If it wasn't, when you finally have one it'll probably kill you!"
"Mmmmm, but what a way to die!" Twink laughed and ran her hand back
down his chest to his penis, which was just as stiff as ever. "My turn to make
you feel good, now," she breathed, sliding down his body and kissing his chest
as he'd kissed hers.
The Bandit suddenly recalled what she'd said about Conan. "Uh, Twink,
are you sure you want to do that? There are other ways...."
"Mmmmm, shut up, Bandit," came her voice from somewhere under the
covers. "I love you, and I want to make you feel as good as I do...." The
Bandit's whole body tensed as a long, wet tongue licked its way down the
underside of his penis and gently kissed his balls, then travelled back up to
the head. "You like?"
"Uh, uh-huh," he managed.
"Oh, good," she replied, "Because I don't feel like stopping! It
tastes so gooommmmbbllmmmmph......" The Bandit began thrusting his hips up off
the bed as her moist, warm mouth enveloped him and gently sucked him in. She
teased him with tiny nips and rolled her tongue obscenely over the head of his
penis as if trying to lick a lollipop to death in under three minutes. As
excited as he was, it was no time at all before the Bandit was feeling himself
tense up under an impending orgasm.
Twink, feeling him tense, stopped her labors for a moment. "Are you
all right? Am I hurting you?"
"Oh, God, DON'T STOP NOW, I'M COMING!"
"Oops! Sorry! Glmmmmm....MMMM! MMMM! MMMMMM! Mmmmmmmmmmm...."
"UH! UNGH! UH! UH! OH! UH! Uhhhhhhhhhhh...."
Twink swallowed and swallowed again, downing every drop of hot, thick
semen he gave her. She got up on her hands and knees and looked up at him,
licking the last bits of sticky come from her lips. "How was that?"
"Oh, god," the Bandit moaned. "I'm dying...."
Twink laughed lightly and snuggled up next to him, kissing him deeply.
The mixture of sweat, pussy juice and semen in the kiss was indescribable. The
Bandit broke the kiss, and muttered, "So much for a night without doing
anything...."
"I don't mind a bit," Twink said, yawning. "I'm so sleepy all of a
sudden...."
"S'okay, me too," the Bandit mumbled. "Sleep well."
"Mm-hmmm...."
"Shhh," Zero whispered as he opened the door to his room slightly. "I
just need to get fresh clothes, and I don't want to wake anyone up."
"Okay," Diva said softly, tiptoeing into the living room with him. The
door to Conan and the Wiz's room was ajar, and Conan was stretched out on his
bed under the covers, snoring like a steam engine.
"Him, we won't waken," Zero laughed, shutting the door. "But the
Bandit's a light sleeper, so...."
He eased the door to the bedroom he shared with the Bandit, and both
he and Diva simultaneously smelled the familiar odor of sex. Zero peeked
inside. The first thing he saw was the rumpled blue nightgown on the floor.
Diva gasped; the first thing she saw was Twink's gorgeous back, half uncovered
by the blankets.
Zero looked at Diva. Diva looked at Zero. Their astonishment was
comical. Quickly Zero reached into his closet and grabbed fresh clothes, and
they backed out of the room and shut the door.
"That was TWINK in there with him, wasn't it?"
"Hard to say, I've never seen Twink naked before."
"Oh, come on, I'm serious! The BANDIT, and TWINK?"
"Hey, she's been gunning for him for months, and I have to admit that
what I saw didn't look too bad...."
"That's enough of that, mister," Diva said sharply. "You're spoken
for already."
"No problem," Zero said amiably. "Just commenting, that's all."
The outer door closed, cutting off their voices. The Bandit smiled,
his eyes still shut, and drifted back to sleep.
The breakfast table was abuzz with conversation when the Bandit came
out of the hot food line with his tray in his hand. He'd sent Twink off to
shower and dress with a kiss, and had promised to meet her at the breakfast
table, but she wasn't there yet. Zero, Diva, Conan, Bone, Thud, Plaids, and
a young blonde girl he'd never seen before were sitting at the table. When
they saw the Bandit, there was an uncomfortable pause, conversation dying down
as the Bandit set his tray down.
"What's everyone looking at me for," he asked pleasantly.
Conan looked at him with a big grin, and waggled a finger at him. "Na,
na ne NA na! Na, na ne NA na!" Pretty soon the whole table was doing it, and
the Bandit just sat down, shaking his head and grinning.
"So how was she?"
"Getting a bit desperate, are we?"
"Any port in a storm, I guess...."
"Yes, but is she 'port'?"
"All right, ALL RIGHT!" The Bandit waved them all to silence. "I have
only this to say. It was not an act of desperation. Okay?"
The laughter redoubled at that. "Prove it," Thud said mildly.
"Okay, I will," the Bandit said with a smile. Keep your promise,
Twink, he thought to himself. Don't wimp out on me, please? It's a stupid
thing to have to do, but it'll make my life so much easier....
"How?" Bone challenged.
"Well, it's easy enough, when--Ah, hello, sweetheart!" The Bandit
stood up and pulled up a chair beside him for Twink as she entered the room.
Conversation died.
Thud's eyebrows went north for the winter. Conan's jaw hit his tray,
and Cricket elbowed him in the ribs. Bone's eyes nearly popped out of his
head, and Plaids nervously took off his glasses and began to polish them
furiously. Twink had told the Bandit that she'd owned one set of clothes that
he'd probably consider "sexy," and had agreed to his request that she wear
them to breakfast. And sexy she was, in a clinging silk jumpsuit that was
unzipped halfway to her waist. She'd foregone the bra for the meal, too.
"Good morning, love," she said huskily, slipping into the Bandit's
arms and doing her best Diva-kissing-Zero imitation. She then sat down beside
him, and said with a bright smile, "Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!"
"Uh, Twink, that's, uh, that's quite an outfit you've got there,"
Conan ventured. Cricket looked over at him, one eyebrow raised.
The Bandit had coached Twink on that eventuality, though; she didn't
even look up. "Eat your heart out, thumbdick," she said, opening her napkin.
Cricket almost spat up her milk laughing. "You, I like," she said with
a grin. "I'm Cricket. You must be Twink!"
"The one and only," Twink replied. "What happened to your eye?"
"Well, I--"
"HEY! HEY, EVERYONE! LISTEN!"
All heads turned about as Lanky came running in, obviously in a panic.
The Bandit stood up and made shushing motions with both hands. "Take it easy,
Lank. What's the matter?"
"It's Livewire." Lanky's face was ashen. "The police came and took him
away last night. It looked like they'd beaten him half to death."
PART 5: All good things
Early March 1982
"Oh, I don't believe this! What the hell kind of bullshit are they
shovelling here?" The Bandit threw down the newspaper disgustedly and kicked
it into the corner with a curse. "Goddamned pseudo-juornalistic shits!"
He punched his data card into the debit monitor as if he'd been
punching the Arcadian's editor, and grabbed a tray from the stack at the head
of the heaterstack line as if he were grabbing her by the throat. His scowl
did its duty; the other students at the dinner table kept their conversations
to themselves, and nobody tried to talk to him. The empty dining hall was
spotlessly clean, and the only sound was the rumble of the gathering crowd
outside the double doors.
Finishing his dinner with the haste of the enraged, he picked up his
tray and carried it back to the kitchen, throwing it on the dumper while he
fired up the Stendorf and got it heating. Stork looked him over dubiously as
he came around to the uniform drawer, and silently held out a folded apron.
The Bandit snatched it with a growl and tossed it over his head, tying it on
as he went to retrieve a pair of rubber gloves from the glove box.
"Um, Bandit?" As always, Stork's voice was deep and quiet, a boom that
went well with his nearly two meters of height.
"What?" The Bandit hissed in pain as a blast of scalding steam hit
him in the face, gusting out of the Stendorf's gaping maw.
"This is a disgusting job. Don't make it even less pleasant for us.
Please?"
The Bandit glared at him for a long moment, then sighed, somewhat
deflated. "Okay, okay," he muttered. "Sorry. I'm just not in the best of moods
tonight, that's all."
"Obviously not," Stork agreed, tying on his own apron. "At the risk of
sounding like the Wiz, d'you want to talk about it?"
"No," the Bandit snapped. "There's nothing to talk about. I'm just
overreacting, I guess. But God damn it, you'd think the idiots who ran the
Arcadian would be a little more careful about getting their facts straight!"
"Oh, is that all?" Stork sighed. "You KNOW they make it all up,
Bandit. Simmer down, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, all right. HEY, FASTBACK! COME ON, LET'S GET STARTED!"
"Coming, coming, coming," Fastback drawled, tying on his apron as he
sauntered back to the Stendorf station. "Anon, anon. Okay, who's on what?"
"Um, I had Stendorf duty last night, so I'm on tray-dump tonight,"
Stork volunteered.
"So that means I have Stendorf duty tonight, ay okay," Fastback
nodded, taking up a position by the back end of the huge, puffing machine.
"And I'm in the sink," the Bandit nodded. "Okay, here we go, people!
Hup, two!" The first stack of used dinner trays came rattling back into the
kitchen, pushed awkwardly by a young student server/clearer, and the familiar
rhythm kicked into gear: trays emptied and cleared into the trashvat by the
Stork, slid over to the Bandit for a quick scrub, and into the Stendorf and
out the other side, clean and sterile, for Fastback to put away. Two hundred
trays an hour, six nights a week, the Bandit thought grimly. Well, it pays the
bills.
The temperature in the stuffy kitchen gradually climbed into the
nineties as the Stendorf's steam mingled with the air. The Bandit wiped a
forearm across his sweaty brow and dove back into the sink full of boiling
water, dishes rattling in his hands as he cleaned and stacked them.
"Window!"
"Window? Ay okay! Bandit! Window?"
"Uh, window! Yeah, sure, I got it," the Bandit puffed, reaching across
the Stendorf's entry gate to the window and throwing it wide open. The night
was cold, but the breeze was pure heaven in the cramped kitchen.
"Ahhhhh, I'm alive again. Thanks, Bandit!"
"No problem, Stork ole pal," the Bandit said with a fleeting smile.
"Hey, are you boys up to loaning your old pal Bandit a tonsil or two?"
"Bass on line," Stork grinned.
"Baritone on line," Fastback grinned. "What'll we sing?"
"How about some Elvis," Bandit suggested.
"Aaaaaalissooooooon, Mah aim is troooooo," Stork wailed.
"Wrong Elvis, you foon!" The Bandit laughed in the gouts of steam.
"You know I can be found--sitting all alone-- you ran off and left me babe,
and now I'm on my own--"
"Don't be cruel (dooooowah)
To a heart that's true (ooooooooo)
Don't be cruel (doooooowah)
To a heart that's true (ahhhhhhh)
I don't need no other love,
Darling, it's just you I'm--"
"THINKIN' OF," Stork boomed. The next two stanzas went by in a flash,
with Fastback and Stork bop-bopping behind the Bandit, and at the end of the
song, the trio were startled by the sound of applause from outside the window.
Squinting through the steam and out into the night, the Bandit could
just make out the figures of some people standing under the window. Waving the
steam away, he suddenly realized that they were girls, Lovepilers from the
look of them. "Pussy alert," he hissed, sotto voce, smiling and waving out the
window at them. They giggled and returned the wave.
"Right," Stork whispered. He cleared his throat. "Don' know why,
there's no clouds up in the sky--"
"STORMY WEATHER," Fastback and the Bandit crooned theatrically, and
the three dishwashing serenaders mugged their way through that and a couple
of other songs before the girls waved cheery goodbyes and headed off down the
road that led past the Roach Motel.
The Bandit's eyes popped as he saw them walk across the East Quad,
right past the turnoff for the Lovepile, and up the steps of the Virgin Vault.
"Hey, those babes were V.V.'s! What the hell were they doing risking their
reps by listening to us?"
"Can't get pregnant from singing," Fastback grinned, heaving the
umpteenth rack of clean dishes out of the Stendorf.
"No, but we all know where shameless revelry can lead," Stork retorted
with a smile. "Hey, guess what? This is the last tray!"
"And there was much rejoicing," the Bandit sighed.
"Yayyyy," Fastback deadpanned, reaching for another dish rack.
"Hey there hi there ho there," the Bandit called, charging into the
lounge. Thud waved, not looking up from his cards. Lanky managed a wave, as
did Mimosa, who was studying her hand intensely and ordering and reordering
the cards again and again.
"Greetings, Bandit!" That particular bellow was Thunder's; the
training of a New England professor and the manners of a coal miner. "And have
you robbed from the rich to give to the poor tonight?"
"By all means," the Bandit grinned, emptying his coat pockets onto the
coffee table. A small pile of chocolates and mints, given out to students who
ate at the Roach Motel and normally unavailable at Scum Central, was soon
divided up and passed around, the Bandit saving a couple for his own use.
"Ah, a gentleman and a scholar," Thunder smiled, running a hand over
his bristling beard as he popped a mint into his mouth. "My thanks, sir."
"The pleasure, as always, is mine," the Bandit replied with a bow.
"Hey, Bandit," Conan said, getting up from the couch where he'd been
napping, "Did you read the paper tonight?"
The Bandit's smile vanished. "Yeah," he growled. "Those miserable
shits. I'd like to stuff a boot up their butts."
"Well, now, let's back off and look at this thing objectively," Thud
said carefully. "They didn't mention his name, and they left out the details
that might have upset the student body. After all, what good would it do to
tell the truth?"
"It never hurts to tell the truth," the Bandit said. He picked up a
paper from where someone had left it, and flipped it open. "No mention of the
misidentification! Nothing about what had really happened! 'Disturbed,' it
says. 'Disturbed'!" He tossed the paper away in disgust. "What the hell does
that mean?"
"It means that he was disturbed," Thunder offered without a smile.
"Although I daresay the police were somewhat more disturbed...."
"That's the truth," the Bandit smiled. The smile, though, flickered
and was gone after a moment. "I'm gonna miss him."
"So are we all, Bandit," Thud nodded. "So are we all."
The Bandit listlessly picked up the paper from where he'd thrown it on
the floor, and read through the article one more time.
ARCADIA STUDENT ACQUITTED OF ASSAULT CHARGES; WON'T RETURN
The criminal court of Wright County today dismissed charges against
the Arcadia student who singlehandedly assaulted and beat the entire campus
security squad on 14 February, at the request of the Office of the College
Chancellor.
The student had left a Valentine's Day party in a state of extreme
inebriation after behaving disruptively and yelling threats against a female
Arcadia student with whom he was believed to be having relationship troubles.
Security was called to the scene to escort the student home, but he became
violent when approached and injured the two Security officers who attempted to
restrain him. The student fled to the Student Union, where he was apprehended
and taken to the County Jail by the remainder of the Campus Security Squad and
two Arcadia Police officers, both of whom were treated and released from
Wright Memorial for minor bruises. He was released on bond the following day,
and taken home by his family.
The charges of aggravated assault were thrown out for reasons not
revealed to the Arcadian's reporters. However, the student, whom the
Psychological Service has characterized as "disturbed," has refused to return
to Arcadia to complete his course of study, citing police brutality.
"They didn't show him their badges," The Bandit muttered, wadding the
paper up in his fists. "He was drunk, for shit's sake! He thought they were
mugging him! What the hell would you have done if two big guys came out of
nowhere and grabbed you while you were walking home?"
"That's probably why they let him go, Bandit," Thunder said quietly.
"And it's probably why the College had the Court dismiss charges. It wouldn't
look good for them to admit that their Security staff weren't well-trained
enough to identify themselves before attempting to manhandle a student...."
The Bandit tossed the paper into a nearby wastebasket.
"Goodbye, Livewire," he said softly to himself, and stalked off toward
his room.
Mary Magdalene sat under the paper sky on her bed, staring at a point
on the wall a few inches to the left of the desk in her room. Princess whined,
obviously upset at her mistress's state of mind, and nosed her head under a
limp hand, trying to encourage a pat.
Mary Magdalene looked down at the small brown-and-white dog at her
right hand. Then, slowly, almost unwillingly, she turned her gaze to the bed
by her left hand. There upon the rumpled bedclothes, lay the letter, half open
upon the envelope and the bits of scarlet wax from the seal. She picked it up
and began to read it for the thousandth, two thousandth time.
My beloved Mary:
It pains me to write this, for I can imagine some measure of the pain
that this letter will bring you. Do not fault me for lack of courage; I wish
to present my case before you in full, without interruptions, and the only way
that I know how to do this is in writing. By now I am certain that you have
guessed what I am about to say....
She let the letter fall from her fingers, and looked back down at the
bed. Her picking up the letter had exposed the envelope, and one more thing
that had lain beside her for nearly a month now. It glittered as she picked it
up, sharp edges gleaming in the candlelight. She looked at the reflection of
her eyes in the burnished steel, eyes waxy with lack of sleep, eyes dry
because there were simply no more tears to be shed.
She held up a pale, cold wrist, and touched the edge of the knife to
it. A lengthwise cut, she recalled; that was the best way to do it, so it
couldn't clot shut after you passed out....
For a long time, she sat unmoving, staring at the knife. Princess
jumped to her feet and ran barking from the room, ears perked for the trespass
of a neighborhood cat or some such. Mary Magdalene barely noticed that she was
gone. The candle flickered--
"Do it."
She jerked about, startled, the knife dropping from her hands.
"Do it. Save us all the trouble, you pathetic bitch."
The Bandit's eyes were unreadable in the candlelight. He stood in the
doorway, one hand idly ruffling a shaggy ear as Princess stood on her hind
legs and chewed on the tails of his jacket.
"That's the easy way out. You know it. So does he. He's counting on
you to do it. You'll be out of his hair for good, and that's what he wants."
Mary Magdalene's lips parted, her voice a desert-dry whisper.
"My life for him....I gave him my life...."
"No, you didn't. You gave him three years, and now you see what it got
you in the end. Don't make his victory complete, Marymag!" The Bandit squatted
down beside her on the hardwood floor, holding Princess with one strong hand.
"He sucked the life out of you to stay alive, and he sucked the sanity out of
you so he could always have someone around to practise with. Now he's got
someone else to practise with, so why throw your life away? It's yours again,
for the first time in years."
"Why her?" The whisper held the agony of damnation. "Why her?"
"She's better in bed than you are, from what I understand," the Bandit
said callously. "She's got nicer tits than you do, she's got better hips, and
she's better on the guitar. But most important of all, she's crazier than
you'll ever be, and he needs that most of all." He smiled, a satanic smile in
the firelight. "He needs a nice, psychotic girlfriend that he can fuck at
night and headshrink by day, to keep himself in trim. And you're out of a job,
seems like. So why not join the rest of us out here in the real world? It's
not too bad, once you get to know it...."
"You have friends, MaryMag. They care about you, and they don't want
to see you any more hurt than you already are. He did the hurting, up until
now. Any hurting that happens from now on, though, is hurting that YOU do to
YOURSELF. Don't be selfdestructive! If you die, we'll all mourn your passing.
Even he will, I expect. But in time, a year, ten years, you'll be forgotten,
moldering away under the ground while we get on with our lives! What kind of
revenge is that?"
She looked away from him, down at the knife. She picked it up, gripped
it convulsively in her fist, stared at it.
"There is only one revenge, Mary Magdalene. To dance on your enemy's
grave. And you can't do that if you go to the grave first.
"Give me the knife."
Mary Magdalene looked over at him, her eyes bleak.
"Please?"
Slowly, she handed the weapon to her. He took it gingerly by the
blade, looked around the room, and suddenly whipped his hand forward in a
blur. There was a meaty thunk of steel hitting wood, and Mary Magdalene tunred
to see an old photograph of her and the Rainbow Wizard, pinned to the wall by
the knife blade through the Rainbow Wizard's face.
She smiled shakily. "Can you teach me to do that?"
He returned the smile. "Not if you're dead, kid."
Mary Magdalene laughed, her first real laugh in weeks. "Great!"
Princess barked and ran to her, and she picked up the tiny, squirming
life and hugged it tightly to her, her eyes moist.
"C'mon, we're getting a group together to go get ice cream. You oughta
get to know your friends again!" The Bandit helped her to her feet, and stood
back awkwardly from her. She was exactly his height in her bare feet, and this
was the closest they'd ever been to one another without the Wiz around. She
looked into his eyes, a hint of her old fire beginning to smolder there once
more, and gave him a quick, hard hug.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Late March 1982
Spring Break was over, and the crowds of students were settling back
into the swing of things, crowded about the lounge and chatting about their
vacations or watching television. There were the usual faces, and some other
students who weren't normal lounge types; a pair of jockettes from the Swim
Team wing getting ready to go out and hit the bars, a punk in a three-button
sack suit and string tie sitting and looking bored at the world from behind
his silvered wrapround shades. Conan surveyed each and every face as it went
by, saying hello to those he knew.
"Is the Bandit back yet?"
"I think so. Hey, Lanky, YOU were the last person to see him; is he
coming back today?"
Lanky tucked a long string of greasy black hair behind his ear
nervously and scratched at his straggly beard. "Yes, he is," he said, but I
haven't seen him, either."
"How was your visit with his family? Did everything go okay?"
"Oh, yeah, everything went fine," Lanky said, looking around him with
a bit of agitation. "His parents are wonderful people, and I must admit they
certainly aren't to blame for his being so skinny!"
"Oh, yeah!" Thud grinned, nodding. "His mom can cook like nobody I've
ever seen. I'll never forget last Thanksgiving, boy...."
"Hi, everyone," Flower said, skipping up and giving the Rainbow Wizard
a quick kiss. Mary Magdalene, sitting nearby, didn't even flinch. "Hope
everyone had a nice vacation!"
"You bet," Conan grinned. "Had the whole gym to myself!"
"Oh, please," Cricket sighed, settling against him more comfortably.
Mary Magdalene was only half following the conversation. The punk on
the couch was staring at her, his face an utter blank behind his shades. He
was robotlike, utterly expressionless, yet there was something about him....
"OH, MY GOD!"
Everyone practically leaped out of his skin at Mary Magdalene's
shriek. A dozen pairs of eyes looked curiously at her, but she could only
point wordlessly at the punk sitting near the circle of friends and make
strangled noises.
"It's--HE'S--"
The punk, obviously annoyed at such attention, raised a sneering
eyebrow...a thick, scowling eyebrow that could only belong to one person.
"BANDIT!"
The familiar grin broke out on the smooth-shaven face as the shades
came off to reveal the dark eyes. Instantly there was pandemonium as the
Bandit was surrounded by people laughing, running hands through his new
buzzcut, and fingering the material of his suit.
"I don't believe it!"
"Yeah, ain't I something?"
"Where'd you get the suit?"
"It was one of my dad's. Ain't it the most?"
"My GOD, your HAIR!"
"Let's just say I got tired of being mistaken for Lanky...."
"Lanky! You knew all the time!"
"He did it before I arrived, it was a shock to me, too!"
"Hey, you have a chin!"
"Oh, gee, thanks! Listen, people, I need you all to keep this quiet
until Twink sees me, okay?" The nods of agreement were mixed with wicked
grins, all around.
"Here she comes!"
Instantly the shades were on and the eyebrows were tucked away. People
resumed their conversations with some effort, stifling an occasional snicker
as Twink came bouncing up to greet them.
"Happy end of vacation, everybody! Has anyone seen Bandit?"
"Um, h-he's around," Conan said with a shushed giggle. Twink looked
around at the others, then sat down uncertainly next to the punk, who politely
moved aside for her.
"So how was everyone's--" Twink stopped. The punk had moved closer to
her, seemingly nonchalantly. She moved a bit away from him, and said, "How
was--" He moved closer to her, and she found herself running out of couch.
"How--" He shifted even closer, his thigh brushing hers. Lanky made a gagging
noise and quietly fell on the floor. Mary Magdalene had a knuckle stuck in her
mouth and was chewing on it to keep from laughing. "What's so--" Twink
whirled to glare at the punk, whose hand had just brushed her thigh. Her glare
turned to a puzzled stare as she regarded him closely for the first time, and
then a disbelieving smile broke out on her face.
"Hey!" She reached out and plucked off his shades, and began to laugh
with the others as she recognized him, throwing her arms around him.
"You're unbelievable!" She sighed and rested her chin on his shoulder
as he returned the embrace, her eyes closed. But his eyes weren't closed, and
nobody noticed that his smile was for Mary Magdalene.
Late April 1982
"What's the matter, love?" Twink looked across the table at the
Bandit, her eyes concerned. "You've been really quiet lately. That isn't like
you."
I'm leaving you, Twink. Forgive me.
The Bandit picked at his dessert, eyes downcast. "Nothing," he
whispered. "I'm just worried about finals, that's all."
"No, you're not," Twink said matter-of-factly. "You never worry about
finals until Reading Period, and sometimes not even then. Why won't you tell
me what's wrong?"
Because I feel like a shit sandwich and I don't want to see you cry.
"It's hard, it's just hard to put into words. I--"
Her eyes were wide and bright with tears. "You want to call off our
relationship, don't you?"
Oh, God. NOW she picks to be observant. Why me, God?
"I, I...." He sighed and threw down his fork. "It's not your fault,
okay? It's not you at all. It's me. I'm just not, I'm not really giving you
what you deserve from a relationship, and I don't think I can. It's funny; in
a way, you're TOO good to me, Twink."
"I love you," she said simply. "How else can I be?"
"Aw, Jesus!" He buried his face in his hands. "You're not making this
very easy, y'know!"
"I don't want it to be easy. I don't want it to happen at all!" Twink
got up, grabbing her tray, and strode out of the lunchroom, the Bandit quickly